Into The Dark
by The Cake Genius
Summary: When the 13 day rule is proven true and Kira is captured, Near is chosen as L's true successor. Mello runs away to join the mafia, bringing Matt with him. But although they choose different paths, Near is caught up in what he cannot handle, and Mello is desperate to beat his rival... even if it means sacrificing what he holds most dear. Matt/Mello AU.
1. Catalyst

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the songs at the end of the chapters. I actually stole the idea of using song lyrics at the end from Dlvvanzor's "Beautiful Disaster," so I don't even own that. I do own the plot, this being an AU.**

**A/N: I don't know how long the chapters will be, or how frequent the updates, so please bear with me on this one. Also, it WILL be sad. It will eventually be MEANT to make you cry. In fact, if you don't cry, I will be disappointed in my poor writing skills. So if you don't like sad stuff, this fic is not for you. Finally, I tweaked the 13 day rule a bit to fit the circumstances of the AU- it is real, but it only affects those in ownership of a Death Note. That's why Light didn't die when he was in confinement etc.**

* * *

**Death Note**

**How to use it**

**If any person in ownership of a Death Note fails to consecutively write names of people to be killed within 13 days of each other, the user will die.**

* * *

**Mello POV**

"L is dead."

Everything froze. This was impossible. Of course L wasn't dead; he was _L._

"No!" I shouted, sounding much stronger than I felt. I leaned towards Roger, trying to find a hint of a lie in his unusually softened eyes. There was none.

I backed away. "How?"

Wammy put his hand on Roger's shoulder and looked at me, such a sad expression...

How was this happening?

Wammy started, "When L caught Kira, he managed to kill L before he was imprisoned."

"Who?" I demanded, "Who was it?!"

Wammy bowed his head. "I'm afraid I am not at liberty to tell you that, Mello."

I stepped back in shock. Why-?

With seemingly even greater regret, the old man admitted, "Since L was unable to make the decision for himself, we have chosen Near too be his successor."

No. _No._My whole world was just crushed. Everything was gone: L, the competition...

"If you can't win the game..." I heard Near's monotone behind me, "if you can't solve the puzzle... you are nothing but a loser."

... But no. That wasn't completely gone, now was it? If Near had beaten me, then, then i would just have to find another way to retaliate. Near was taking the title of L, of 'Justice'? Fine, then... I had my wits, and I had Matt to use.

"I'm leaving this 'institution'," I spat with contempt. "I'll do things my _own _way."

And before they could protest, I was gone.

**Matt POV**

Mello slammed the door open. This being a perfectly normal occurence, I didn't even glance up from my game.

"We're leaving." His voice was harsher and more resolute than I had ever heard it. This time, I saved, and looked up at him.

His face was so filled with fire, his eyes so blazing and alive, that if I hadn't already been in love with him, I would have fallen in that very moment.

"We're leaving," he repeated. "Pack your stuff. You have five minutes."

I was in shock. I mean, Mello was crazy, but I'd never seen him _this _crazy. "... Why?"

"Don't ask questions!" he snapped, and I shrank. Not that I wouldn't obey him, of course. The dog doesn't disobey its master.

Mello started shoving chocolate bars and black clothes into a black backpack. I began to do likewise, but with games and stripes. I threw in some tech gear and a couple jars of peanut butter that I stash under my bed. Yes, I keep peanut butter under my bad. It is delicious, and that shit comes in handy. Don't judge me.

I felt about half ready when Mello yanked me out the door, nearly breaking my wrist in his crushing grip. "Where are we going?" I gasped, struggling to keep up with his long strides.

"You'll find out soon enough," he growled.

So he didn't know.

Fine by me. I was getting bored, anyway.

**Near POV**

Mello's outburst was so childish. I wish I could have used such an intelligent mind, of course, but I didn't need him.

Wammy now talked to me directly. "Along with the title of L, you will receive your own team of trained investigators and the rights to examine any and all evidence pertaining to the Kira case, among any other cases solved by the previous L."

"Good," I murmured, clicking into place the final piece of my puzzle. The finished picture was a blank, snowy white, save an L logo int the corner.

_Look at me,_ I thought._ I've won._

* * *

**Green is the color of my envy,**

**It's the color of fame.****  
****So I'm gonna write it down****  
****Gonna scream it out****  
****And I'm never gonna be the same****  
****Again****  
****Fear is the color you've all exposed****  
****And I've gotta get up here and prove the importance of my****  
****Clothes, my pose, I suppose****  
****Again****  
****I am my angel 'til death I do.**

**I saw my first angel, and it was you.**

**-"Superstar," Tegan&Sara**


	2. Exchange

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: No Near POV this chapter, but there will be some in the next. I actually love writing Near. It's a little frightening to stare into the depths of his mind, but that's what makes it so fascinating and exciting. Also, does anyone have any idea if 'mafia' is supposed to be capitalized? I hate not knowing when I make a grammar mistake... Finally, I would like to say that I hold no grudge against prostitutes in general. I feel sorry for them. No disrespect is meant. This particular one just turned out horridly. When I was writing this, I kept thinking, 'Ew! That's so gross!' but when I contemplated cutting it out, I was like, 'But no, I love this scene!' XD**

* * *

**Mello POV**

****A plan was already unfurling in my mind as I tugged Matt along: to beat Justice, I'd have to use cruelty, and break the law on such a big scale that my opponent would be overpowered. The best way to do that? The mafia.

But how was I supposed to get into the mafia? Where do I even _find_ the mafia?

I'd have to track down lower-scale criminals first, then-

"_Mello._"

"Goddammit Matt, you son of a bitch!"

"It's just that we've been walking like this for about half an hour, and I'd like to know what's going on."

I sighed in an aggravated huff and supplied him with the bare facts (which were really all I knew anyway, but he didn't need to know that). "Kira killed L. Near won. We're gonna beat him."

**Matt POV**

I tingled at how he said "we." If I was important enough for Mello to include me in his crazy, inferiority complex- driven schemes, then I must be pretty special.

Knowing Mello, he'd do whatever it took to beat Near, and do it in a very Mello way, in a very Mello style. AKA badass, AKA illegal.

Sweet.

I knew I'd do whatever it took to help him; even if the police were at our heels and shooting, I'd stop the bullets with my own body without a second thought. Anything for Mello. So I asked him, "What should I do?"

He muttered more to himself than to me, "They'll need a hacker, so will I, to track down that bastard Near and know what he's doing... Yeah, we'll need you."

He _needed_ me.

We were full-out on the streets now, in the grimy London city, going who knows where, about to do who knows what, and it was absolutely brilliant. Much more exciting than some old prank we pulled at Wammy's, that's for sure.

Mello suddenly grabbed the arm of a woman standing on the filthy street corner. I could tell she was a first-rate whore, with gigantic breasts up to her neck and near to nothing covering he ass. (Haha, NEAR to nothing.)

She looked at him in surprise. "What do you want, kid?"

Mello's scowl deepened at the term "kid," and spat with disdain, "I don't want sex, _idiot_." (Which was the worst insult in the world, in Mello's point of view.) "I want _information_."

Her eyes narrowed. "And what do I get in return?"

Mello raised his eyebrows. "What do you want? Money? I have that, if that's what you want." He'd packed some? I hadn't noticed.

She laughed, and I hoped he wouldn't murder her (since bodies aren't the easiest task to clean up). Mello hated being laughed at.

"I tell you what. You're pretty cute, kid." God, she was stretching it, wasn't she? "I'll tell you whatever you want if you pay me with some money an' a kiss on the cheek." She must be pretty lonely. A sexually starved whore? That was laughable.

"Fine," Mello consented, though it sounded more like a threat. "But info first, payment later. Understand?"

She smiled disgustingly, and my stomach churned. "I'm all yours."

**Mello POV**

The whore led us down a cracked alleyway and to the door of a filthy, seemingly abandoned building. I was almost disbelieving when she actually led us _into _this hovel and switched on a sputtering light. I could make out flies buzzing through the air and the heavy smells and stains of bodily fluids.

I had never been so revolted in my life.

She turned to face me. "What do you want to know?"

I responded immediately, voice clipped as I tried not to breathe in too much of the air. "I want a list of your most recent clients, and their occupations. That's all."

"Oh, that's all?" she asked sarcastically. "You think I keep track? You think I even know the names of the bastards I fuck? Think again, kid, an' quit wasting my time."

"How much do you want?" I demanded. "Maybe some cash will jog your memory."

She eyed me shrewdly. "Five hundred."

"Two hundred."

"Four hundred."

"Three hundred."

"Deal, kid."

I fished the money out of my pack, and heard Matt muffle a gasp of shock behind me. He didn't really think I was stupid enough to go without cash, did he? Hell, no. I'd been stealing from Roger's overabundant stash since I was a child. I always knew I'd run away eventually. It was only a matter of time.

"Information first," I reminded her.

She sighed and picked at her graying teeth. "There was this one guy... think 'is name was Andrews, somethin' like that. Dawn... no, Shaun, that was it. Shaun Andrews... yep."

"How much did he pay you? More than usual?" Why else would she remember him, after all?

"Yeah, as a matter a' fact... Hey, kid. Why you askin' me all these questions? What's in it for you?"

"That's none of your concern," I told her coldly, throwing the money at her, completely uncaring. I had plenty more. "Come on, Matt, we're leaving."

"- Wait!" She desperately grabbed my arm. "Don't forget the second part of our deal."

I wish I had.

But if she was a whore? Fine. I'd beat her at her own game. Threefold.

I turned once more and breathed slightly against her neck, my lips ghosting upward, not quite touching the skin, purring. I let my body rub up against her's, and felt her freeze completely. I pressed the very skin of my lips against her jawbone, and let my tongue flick out to lick her, slowly. She tasted like sweat and cum, but it was worth it to see the look on her face when I pulled away. I doubt anyone else could make a kiss on the cheek so erotic.

"You ain't just some kid, are you?" she mumbled bluntly.

I harshly laughed and turned on my heel, strutting away and taking Matt (who had the strangest expression on his face) with me. "No," I said, still smirking. "I'm Mello."

**Matt POV**

"So, we're gonna find this Shaun Andrews guy? What then?" I asked Mello. He didn't have me in a vice grip anymore, but he was still moving quickly, and I had to jog slightly to keep up.

"We'll track him."

"Excellent." I'd brought some supplies, so I was sure we could piece something together, somehow.

"A richer person wouldn't usually turn to such a cheap prostitute unless he was really desperate. And since she didn't specify the payment, there were probably drugs involved. The name was most likely fake, too, but with luck, he'll have used it more than once."

I hadn't really thought of half of those things, but when he said it like that, it kind of made sense...

He pulled me into an alley. "For now," he told me, steel eyes darting in search of predators, "we wait."

* * *

**I don't hold my breath, and I don't hold my tongue, **

**And I know that you know that I don't back down**

**To no one**

**To no one**

**Oh, you should've stayed home**

**You should've known better**

**Yet I melt in your mouth,**

**Liquid sugar.**

**You thought you were gonna throw it back in my face, but tell me**

**How do my leftovers taste?**

**- "Leftovers," Porcelain and the Tramps**

**Who else knows this song from touchmymafia? XD**


	3. Fire

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note.**

**A/N: Well hi thar. :3 It's awesome when your friends ask you what you're writing about, and you can reply, "I'm writing about Mello stripping in a dirty alley." XD **

* * *

**Matt POV**

By nighttime, we were both cold and sore, and I'd started eating peanut butter straight from the jar, sans a spoon (despite Mello's disgusted glances). My companion would never admit to his discomfort. I, on the other hand, did not use such discretion.

"Owww." I got a Mells-patented glare, but, accustomed to this, quite politely didn't give a damn. "Owww... Melloooo..."

"What?!" he snapped.

"How long are we gonna _be _here...?"

"Until one AM."

"What the _hell_, Mell?" I went, just to see him twitch. I checked my watch, and brightened up considerably. "Hey! WE only have about 10 minutes left!"

Mello bolted up, and swore, "Shit! We lost track of time! Matt, cover for me, I don't wanna get raped!"

"What?" I stood up dazedly, rubbing my ass. "What are you-?"

"I said, cover for me!" He pulled something black out of his backpack and started stripping, right there in the alley.

It looked in slow-motion to me as he pulled off his baggy black shirt. His skin was so smooth, and his ribs, and his lean, wiry muscles, and oh Zelda...

He tugged on a vest and zipped it up- much too quickly- I noticed that it was leather, and exposed his midriff, hipbones going down, down... How I would love to follow the lines of those hipbones, tracing them with my fingers, hearing him gasp as I...

I pushed my goggles above my eyes, and suddenly the world was no longer tinted gold, and everything was _Mello_ in my eyes, illuminated by the harsh glow of the streetlamps and dipped in one AM darkness.

Mello furtively scanned the area, then pulled down his pants.

I choked.

Words fail me.

Absolutely fail me, but I was enraptured.

My best friend- oh PIKACHU, my _best friend_, oh, _Mello_- slithered into tight black leather pants and hurriedly laced them up. The fabric clung tightly to his long, long legs, encasing him in melted chocolate, a panther's hide, delicious against his cream-skin and angel's hair. Steel-blue eyes pierced me.

I tried to remind myself to breathe, but I couldn't remember how.

"Nobody saw me, did they?"

"Uh..."

"Matt! This could be dangerous! Stop zoning out and fucking _help me_, for once in your useless life!

His words stung like ice against tender skin. I forced out, "Nobody saw." I _was_ nobody, after all. Nothing to Mello, so I was nothing. I snapped my goggles back over my eyes so I was safe from him seeing the tears there.

Why did I have to fall in love with him?

**Mello POV**

Matt scuffed his boots against the dimly lit alley grit, his eyes cast to the trashcans shoved against the cracked and moldy walls. Something heavy tugged at my tightening ribs.

"Matt, look..."

"It's fine," he muttered. His face was a breathless shade of red. He looked small beneath his stripes.

I reached out to touch his hunched shoulder in apology- clenched my fist. I furiously looked away. I couldn't apologize, not here, not like this.

"C'mon," I grumbled. "Let's get out of here."

As I stalked away, felt him reaching instinctively for my hand.

I didn't take it.

Instead, I shoved my guilt into some dark crevice and emerged from the alley, furtively scouring the area before making my way down the sidewalk. The streetlights cast long, eerie shadows through the darkness, and the air smelled of waste and pollution. After a few steps, I sensed Matt silently following behind me. My chest clenched again as I thought back to his face as he had watched me.

I listened intently, and made out a faint sound of music, or perhaps its distant cousin. After a couple minutes of searching in the chill night air, I reached my destination: a trashy, run-down club, cheap colored spotlights and crappy music blaring through the windows.

I went around to the back. No one was watching it; exactly as planned. I leaned against the wall, and Matt posed beside me.

I finally looked at him. Although his facial expression was hidden well, his arms wrapped protectively around his shoulders. Red hair flopped downward as he cast his face to the floor. I took a deep breath, opening my mouth, with nothing coming out. It took a few seconds, but finally I managed, "Matty... I'll get you some chocolate later, all right? Ghiradelli. My treat."

He sighed a bit, gloved hands migrating from his arms to his pockets. "I said it's fine."

"But-"

Too late. Some drunkard was staggering out this back way, and we had to seize the opportunity. "Act casual!" I quickly hissed, and Matt immediately stood erect and awkward. I rolled my eyes. "Act high," I amended.

He was scarily good at this.

I made my own eyes glaze over, and hobbled my own way over to the actual drunkard. Wammy's had taught voice acting. I could do this.

"Yo, buddy..." I slurred, clapping the guy on the back.

Thankfully, he seemed to be a happy drunk. "Hey, man!" he belted. "Wassuppp?"

"You got any?" I whispered conspiritorially.

"Any...?"

"Ya know what I'm talkin' about, man!" I slurred even more. "Somma tha _good stuff_."

He leaned way too far into my personal space. His breath was heavy with alcohol. I fought the urge to recoil. "Oh, somma _that stuff_."

"Hey, ya know if Andrews happened to pass by?" I whispered.

"Ya lookin' fer Andrews?" he said incredulously. "Yeah, he passed through a bit ago. You got enough money for 'im though? That clean stuff don't come cheap."

"Aw, it's all right. Wishful thinking'." I waved a hand sloppily.

"'Ey, ya know I wanna help a bro. I heard 'e was headin' south."

"Thanks, man."

"No prob."

I watched him stagger away, then abruptly stood up, dusted myself off, and hurried back to Matt, who was still leaning against the wall. "_God_, that was awful," I said as I rubbed my mouth with the back of my hand.

He chuckled despite himself. "I never thought I'd see you doing _that."_

I strangely felt myself laughing a little, too. Matt tended to have that effect on me, at the end of the day. That's why we were friends. "It was almost as bad as kissing that whore... _Almost._" I made a gagging motion.

He smiled genuinely, and in spite of the situation, in spite of the chill night winds, I felt warm.

I held out my hand to him, and he took it, cheeks turning pink again for a reason I couldn't, or maybe wouldn't, fathom. "Let's find a place to stay," I said. "It's been a long day."

"You got that right."

**Near POV**

****I told them I wanted to see the Kira evidence first, other people later. I was L, so I had to know exactly what that job entailed. The plane ride (on which I was accompanied by Mr. Wammy) was several hours, but the car ride relatively short, to reach my destination: the Japanese prison where Kira was held.

I was led through the dank, macabre prison halls, my sock-clad feet silent as snowflakes against the cold stone. In the very back, we finally reached his cell, and I stared at his huddled form dressed in black clothes that hung about him sloppily, russet head down between his pulled-up legs. He wasn't allowed even a bench, so he sat on the hard, dirty floor. This was the least he could do to atone for his sins. He made no movement to signify his knowledge of my presence, but I was well aware of his intelligence.

"Light Yagami," I said coolly. "The felon who murdered L Lawliet. Kira."

He raised his head to stare me in the yes, and the raw, unguarded power within them cut through me with precision. He remained silent, but the tension in the air could be cut with a knife.

I continued. "The 13 day rule was proven correct when your accomplice, Amane Misa, died after these two days of her imprisonment- 13 days after her latest victim. Since you murdered L two days ago, you now have 11 more days to live." I considered this justice; Kira would feel the same sensations of a heart attack that he had subjected to thousands of other human beings. It was a poetic way to die. "We are in possession of the Death Note you used for your childish slaughter."

Nothing. He already knew all of this, of course. I was testing him, seeing what aggravated him. But the serial killer remained rock-silent, clearly recognizing the challenge.

"You may have murdered L Lawliet," I continued, "but you have not killed off L. I am his successor, but there will be no replacement for you. Justice always wins."

Filled with malice, he said with barely suppressed, quavering madness, "Do you know how it feels?" There was an almost blood-like red tint to his eyes, a panicked desperation in the shaking of his ribcage. "Do you know how it feels... to look the person you love in the yes... and kill them?" Kira's expression became contorted with scorn, and looked away to stare at the floor again. "You aren't worthy of the title of L," he spat.

I shivered, and Wammy put his hand on my shoulder. "I believe that will be enough for now," I forced out. "Mr. Wammy, if you would please escort me outside."

I left with Kira's words ringing in my ears.

* * *

**Tables turn, your words they burn, **

**They're leaving me undone.**

**I flinch and shake until I break, **

**I swear to God, for once could you just **

**Heal me,**

**No really, heal me.**

**- "Turning Into You," The Offspring**


	4. Friends

**Disclaimer: I do not own McDonald's, the songs, or the canon series.**

**A/N: Happy weekend, guys! :D Lots of love to all of you. This fic is in an awkward in-between spot... I know what I want to have happen, and I'm almost to that point, but I'm not quite sure how to get there... Bear with me, please. :) Hooray for the super long chapter. :P Also- the shipping of Gevanni/Near shall prevail. XD  
**

* * *

**Mello POV**

I was dubious about sleeping on the streets, but it seemed that we had no other choice. We settled down anxiously in the place where I'd changed before, knowing it wasn't safe to be near that bar.

"You sleep first," Matt told me as we settled down.

"You'll wake me up when you need to sleep?"

"Yep," he supplied easily, but I didn't really care. Heavy exhaustion tugged at my eyelids. I put my backpack under my head and wrapped my jacket around myself. It took a while to ignore the hardness and the cold of the cement, but I eventually drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

**Matt POV**

He was pretty when he slept. Almost like a girl, though I'd never tell him that. No, he looked more like an angel, with all anger wiped off of his features. An angel in black leather, long, graceful legs, and a beauty that only something close to breaking can have. Even in sleep, he wasn't completely still; his muscles were still tense, his eyes still twitching, still thinking, feeling, even in dreams.

What a lovely creature he was.

I fished my duct-taped laptop out of my own pack and woke it up, whispering, "Hi, baby," as I did. I didn't want to wake Mello now. I beheld the keys almost lovingly. "You ready for some real work?"

**Mello POV**

When I woke up, it was distinctly not from Matt, but because of the sunlight piercing through my eyelids. I rubbed my face blearily as I dragged myself up. I saw Matt still on his computer. "You were supposed to wake me up," I slurred.

He shrugged.

I glared at him, which he didn't have a reaction to, so I gave up the pretense and sighed, stretching to loosen my limbs stiff from lying on the ground.

"I've been working," he said, "and I found us a place we might be able to stay. It would be a small flat but not many people are in the same building, so that's good."

"You were looking for an apartment?"

"Yeah. I figure we don't really want to sleep on the streets every night, do we? It was pretty simple: I just hacked into the landlord's client list and put two new people in this room that no one had. Then I got into some old rich guy's bank account and put some of his money where our rent would be."

"... Thanks."

He smiled lightly. "Hey, no big deal. Are we going south today?"

"Yeah." I got up slowly and mentally slapped myself awake. Matt stowed away his laptop and stood up beside me, wincing slightly. He must have been even sorer than I was.

He really was a good guy; someone genuinely kind, unlike me, someone who usually wanted to strangle half of the population for no logically explained reason. I resisted the urge to smile at him or taking his hand to lead him. He smiled for me. I noticed he did that a lot: smiling when I'm not. It was probably just habit, but there was something slightly... tingly... about noticing it.

Yeah, I really hadn't gotten enough sleep.

I located the direction of south by the watery sun. (Luckily, the roads headed this way, since the sun was perpendicular to us.)

We walked. And walked. I kept my eyes peeled for any place suspicious, but it was especially difficult to tell in daylight.

Th landscape got more and more trashy as we proceeded. Buildings gave way to ramshackle houses and streets transcended into litter-blanketed, winding roads. I tried and failed to resist the urge of wrinkling my nose.

When we passed a couple of guys on the other side of the road, one of them wolf-whistled and shouted, "Hey, babe! Come ditch your boyfriend and come hang with us!"

Before I could get my mind past _what in the fucking hell_, Matt replied scathingly, "As a matter of fact, this _man_ over here is not for sale!"

The sleeze blanched as the other guy started calling him a faggot.

"I do not look like a girl," I mumbled through gritted teeth as I sped up my pace.

"Of course not, _babe_," Matt teased, but he took my hand protectively.

"I will take your games," I threatened, "and crush them. Every. Last. One. And then throw them into the ocean."

"If we were near the ocean, I might take you seriously," Matt retorted.

"Fuck you."

He blushed and rolled his eyes, swallowing. "Whatever, Mells." And now he was calling me 'Mells.' Why do I let him call me 'Mells'? Seriously, I should really tell him to stop. It is degrading and sounds feminine. And I don't like it. None at all. "What exactly are we looking for?" he asked me.

"A drug dealer, I suppose."

"This place is crawling with drug dealers."

"True... He probably works at night, besides." And my legs were starting to kill me.

"Well, why don't we get food somewhere? I'm starving."

"You are full of good ideas," I told him. "I'm sure there's a McDonald's somewhere around here..."

And so we went on a fast-food hunt.

**Near POV**

"This is Rester, Halle, and Gevanni," Wammy told me. "They will be your very own task force. It is unlikely we will meet again, unless you choose to visit the House as the previous L did."

I stared at my feet, unable to look at the man who had raised me for almost my entire life. I knew I wouldn't visit. It wasn't my 'style' to associate with society unless I absolutely had to. Even working with this small group of people would be unusual for me. It was likely that I'd never see him again. "Thank you for all your help, Mr. Wammy," I said, making my monotone sound emotionless as ice. "I appreciate all your contribution to my welfare."

He bowed slightly and left, his footsteps echoing around the walls of the metallic, grey headquarters. Only when I heard the door clang shut did I look up.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," I lied. "I hope we'll work well together."

Gevanni, who was dark-haired with clever eyes, spoke first. "It's nice to meet you too, L." His voice was thin, and a little tight- not scared, but wary and quick. He held out his hand, and it took me a moment to realize I was supposed to shake it. I took it lightly, delicately, and barely squeezed. His fingers felt like summer rain.

I next shook hands with Halle, a warm-looking blonde woman who I suppose I should have considered attractive, and Rester, a burly man who remained in constant silence. These were slightly easier. Most things become simpler with practice, after all.

I said, "If I may excuse myself, I would like to personally examine the Death Note used by the first Kira." Without a backward glance, I headed towards my private quarters.

I had work to do.

* * *

I flipped through the pages of the Death Note, thinking. The shinigami, Ryuk, was still presumably tied to Light Yagami, since Kira hadn't given up the Death Note; we'd taken it and all pieces of it from him by force, leaving his memory intact. When Kira passed away, what would happen to the death god? Most likely, the ownership would transfer to me... but that matter was currently irrelevant.

I turned to the page that read "L Lawliet" in a hurried, messy scrawl, the handwriting of a cornered man.

I had honored L, admired him even, considered him almost family. When he used to visit, we would talk for hours, about cases, equations, the best toy stores... I felt we had a mutual agreement of unspoken understanding between us.

But I could not understand how he had lost- an angel losing to _Kira, _to _It,_ the most corrupt abomination to ever sully this Earth. I ran over Kira's words in my mind. What did he mean by them? There's no doubt in my mind that he was speaking of my mentor as the one he loved... But had L loved _that_? He must have been able to win. He just didn't. Perhaps for caring, perhaps for something else. I couldn't imagine such a thing.

I wrapped two fingers protectively into my hair, clutching a plastic dinosaur with the other. I'd taken, and passed perfectly, a college-level psychology course. Yet all the words in the world could not explain to me the _emotions, _the _feelings_, of the alien beings called humans, why these weaknesses were necessary to life. It would be easier just to switch the "off" button on humanity, easy as stilling an electric train, becoming functional dolls on marionette strings.

I heard a soft knock on my door, so I buried another finger in my hair and called, "Come in."

The door opened quickly, but gently, and the footsteps that followed were quiet and precise.

"Hello, Gevanni."

I felt him sit down next to me, seeing his slacks crease out of the corner of my eyes. The brontosaurus in my hand lumbered over to a little pterodactyl.

"It's like a huge playroom in here," he remarked. I suppose it was true; I was sitting in the center of my private quarters, already surrounded by half-arranged domino trails, matchstick skyscrapers, little robot children in colored block asylums.

"It helps me think," I told him. "I always think this way."

He turned towards me and asked, "What are you thinking now?"

"That you see me as an experiment."

He hesitated. "What?"

"Clearly, you and the others must be very interested in me, considering that I'm the next L, and I've been informed that my social skills aren't high. Then there is this room, which you must think strange, seeing a thirteen-year-old boy playing with dolls. People tell me this is also unusual. The way you shook my hand and act around me are not dissimilar to the mannerisms of counselors I've met with that have tried to pick me apart, and-"

"That's not how it is," he protested. "I just..."

"You don't have to be embarrassed." I shrugged. "I'm not angry with you; I'm satisfied. You_ should _see me as an experiment. In a way, I am. Analyze everyone, Gevanni. I see _you _as an experiment, after all."

"You mean you can get rid of us if our services are unsatisfactory," he laughed.

I finally looked at him, smiling a bit. "Precisely."

The young man chuckled. "How do I pass so far?"

The way he moved- quickly, carefully- indicated a job with which he had been seasoned for this kind of work. But his trousers had been hand-mended twice, and his eyes, though steely, were kind. He hadn't gotten a haircut in a while. His fingertips were smooth, not rough, and his nails wee cut short. So... he hadn't done much hands-on work, but was eager for it, for "adventure." He hadn't made a lot of money, so he got here on with; a high promotion. "You're childish," I concluded, "and hate to lose." I watched his eyes widen, his eyebrows ascend into slightly long, black hair. "So far, you're passing with flying colors."

He didn't look as if he knew how to react. I couldn't exactly blame him, not being prepared for Wammy's-brand training.

I picked up a small model rocket and held it out to him. I watched as he hesitantly took it from me, a nervous smile flickering like a candle on his lips when his fingers brushed mine.

"L?" he asked.

"Yes?"

"Would you like to be friends?"

"I've never had a friend before," I murmured. "It might be nice." I turned away so I couldn't see his expression soften for me. "And please call me Near."

* * *

**I walked across an empty land.**

**I knew the pathway like the back of my hand.  
**

**Is this the place we used to love?  
**

**Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?  
**

**Oh simple thing, where have you gone?  
**

**I'm getting old and I need something to rely on.  
**

**So tell me when you're gonna let me in.  
**

**I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin.  
**

**- "Somewhere Only We Know," Keane  
**


	5. The Stairway

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, McDonald's, or mercy towards my readers. The definition segment is from the free online dictionary.  
**

**A/N:... and here's where shit gets crazy. XD I hope this makes at least an iota of sense.  
**

**Please note that I am not Catholic. I mean no disrespect, and do not claim in the slightest to know a lot about the religion.  
**

* * *

**Matt POV**

We stayed in the McDonald's until it was dark out. I'm pretty sure that they would have kicked us out if it didn't run 24/7. Especially with Mello there, taking up an entire bench and wrinkling his nose at everyone who walked in, and me slanderously abusing the "free refills" rule. (I had to take more than one bathroom break.)

Finally, he deemed it late enough, so I tossed my sadly empty cup in the trash and we walked out.

"Matt," he told me as the chill night air nipped at our faces and his bare arms, "this could actually be dangerous. Whatever I end up doing tonight... you have to promise you won't interfere." He wouldn't meet my eyes, his face cast in shadow.

I hugged my arms. "Why are you talking like that? What's so different about tonight?"

"I'm going to find him," he told me. "This Andrews guy."

"Oh." I didn't exactly understand what this meant, but there was no way I wasn't going to protect Mello. I'd follow his orders, but only to a certain point. As soon as his life was on the line, I'd do whatever it took to make him safe again. Since he was trying to get into the mafia, I guess 'safe' is a relative term, but still. I wanted my Mells with minimal damage, completely intact if possible.

It took longer this time to find the right place- there were a couple buildings that he would just take one look at, shake his head, and move on- but we finally arrived somewhere that Mello seemed to think worthy of the criminal we were seeking.

He slunk around to the back again, then turned to me. "Stay here," he ordered, and disappeared inside. My chest gave a sudden little lurch at my fear for him. I stared at my shaking hands and forced myself to be calm.

**Mello POV**

I slipped inside and glanced around the room. No guards, no security. This was going to be easier than I thought.

I huddled in one dark corner, hoping my clothes would let me blend in. I tried to concentrate, but the pounding of the music and the heavy feeling of sweaty, gyrating bodies pressing back on me was stifling. My heart began to sink. There was no way I could-

There. There, at the bar, that middle-aged man with the gloves and the button-down shirt. There, those furtive eyes and money from a pocket. There, that miniscule flash of a bag of white.

Yes.

I pressed through the mass of alcoholic bodies.

I felt a couple people trying to move against me, but I struggled through and burst out of the other end with my fists clenched. I walked right over to the man and stood beside him, demanding his attention, until he gave it.

Scruffy. Pudgy. He looked completely normal besides being in a club at his age and the evidence of his sobriety in the shrewdness of his grey-blue eyes.

"I want in." I pretended not to hesitate, pretended that my heart wasn't thumping hard against my ribcage, pretended that my palms weren't wet.

His brow raised. "What're you talking about?

"I want _in_," I repeated. "The mafia, if possible. Don't play innocent."

He stayed silent, sizing me up, I presume.

"Are you Andrews?" I demanded.

He took a sip of his beer as the DJ switched to an equally shitty song as the one before. "How old are you, anyway?"

"Fifteen. Does it matter?"

A shrug. "I guess not."

As he made more deals, I stood some more. And waited. And stared. And waited. And sighed. And cleaned my nails. And waited. And waited. Matt must have been worrying, but I couldn't go check on him without getting him found out. Needless to say, I didn't even glance towards the door.

Finally, he stood up to leave. "Come with me if you want in," he grumbled. "It's bad business with you standing there, anyway."

He walked through the back door and I followed him.

**Matt POV**

It had been so long. I was shivering by this point, but I didn't really care. What if Mello was in trouble? Why was he taking so long? Was he hurt? Did he need my help?

I should have gone with him, I should have... should have-

The back door opened, and for what felt like the thousandth time, I snapped my head up to see if it was Mello.

This time, it _was_, and my system flooded with relief.

He caught my eye and almost imperceptibly shook his head. I noticed then the man walking in front of him, probably leading him to a place where Mello would only be in more danger.

Mello put one long finger to his lips, casually, almost like he was smoking a cigarette. I nodded and made my footsteps as quiet as possible as I followed the two into the night. This guy might be in the mafia, but I was a Wammy's kid. I have mad ninja skills.

We strayed completely from walkways altogether. It looked like this part of town had been abandoned, and the wind and the darkness sent a shiver of fear and adrenaline up my spine. I forced my teeth not to chatter, remaining completely silent for Mello's safety, if not for my own.

We finally reached a crumbling, old apartment building. "In here," the man grunted, startling me. None of of us, obviously, had spoken a word the whole time. He had a low, gruff voice.

Mello swung open the door that was halfway off its hinges and stepped inside. I did my best to follow the two discreetly, holding my breath as I made my way in.

Mello's boots clacked as he stalked through the darkness. Neither I nor Andrews made any sound.

Finally, we came to a door, and led inside.

There, strapped to a chair with a perfectly clear purpose, was an old man. Sick. Dying. Exhaustion spread upon his features like bodies on a battlefield.

_Oh, Mello_.

I watched as his expression didn't even twitch. I knew that look, that rock-solid look. That look he got when he didn't know the answer to a test question, an aching expression of hard determination, a grim resolution that he knew what he had to do.

Andrews handed him a gun. Still, nothing changed in his face.

He aimed.

_Mello_.

He clicked off the safety.

_Why hurt yourself?_

He fired, straight through the old man's head, blood spurting as he choked his last breath.

_Mello, I love you_.

And the gruff voice told him, a ringing sound in my own ears, "You're in."

**Near POV**

When night fell, I carefully stored the Death Note under my pillow. I may need it later.

No. I wouldn't. I memorized the rules. there was no use lying to myself; I knew that now, especially with the Kira case concluded, there would be no need to keep that abominable object.

So why?

There was only one explanation: an emotional attachment.

I lifted the pillow to look at it again.

Thinking objectively of myself, that was interesting. I'd always liked objects, because you could control them. I knew that. I hadn't needed a therapist when I was young, because I'd already psychoanalyzed myself a hundred time over, partly out of habit and partly because I was bored and had nothing better to do.  
I knew quite well that inanimate objects were more important to me than real peoples' lives, mainly for finding a sense of balance and control.

Of course, the Death Note wasn't a toy. It _could _control people; their bodies, hearts, minds. What fascinating playthings, minds were.

I picked up the Note again, fingering the pages between my thumb and index finger.

Kira had used this to kill so many people. His mind must have snapped. In the end, the Death Note had played with _him_.

But he was only human. And I? Was I human?

My heart beat. My lungs breathed. Blood ran through my veins. My body worked just like any human body should.

But my soul?

What was that, anyway? A notion, a myth, nothing more. The complexities of the brain worked to fuel emotions. With all my thoughts, I didn't have time or room for such notions.

I hugged the book to my chest. Light was human. What if I could _become_ inhuman? What then? Could I have beaten him? Could I have won?

_Win_. What a funny word. A silly attachment, one that Mello had made the mistake of forming long ago. I was nothing like him.

_Win: win (wn) __v._ **won** (wn), **win·ning**, **wins **_v._intr.**1. ** To achieve victory or finish first in a competition. **2. ** To achieve success in an effort or venture. ___v.__tr. _**1. ** To achieve victory or finish first in.

An intoxicating word.

I trembled in excitement, feeling the power of these pages touching my chest, against my beating heart. My world pitched, then quickly righted itself. Blurred, and snapped into focus again. Dizzying sensations ran like electricity through my very veins.

I can win.

I could finally, finally _win_, and oh, what a _show _it would be.

Because I'm not an idiot, unlike Kira. I could use this without getting caught.

Right? Wrong? Kira was evil, and I'd said so myself many times. He hadn't even said 'sorry.' The feeling of regret is irrelevant; it is simply a matter of politeness.

Just as Good and Evil are simply matters of the heart, and not the mind.

And hearts were only made to pump blood, slowly and sluggishly dragging life on.

I floated through the halls, a heady feeling flooding me as I ripped off a corner of one of the pages and hid the Notebook under my pajama top. On my bare skin, the cool, smooth cover felt like graceful piano keys.

I knocked on Gevanni's door. "Near?" I heard him mumble within.

I opened the door, clutching one arm with the opposite hand. He sat up blearily, rubbing his eyes with his fists. "What is it?" he chuckled. "Nightmare?"

"I don't dream," I told him softly. His hair was tousled and his nightshirt was unbuttoned. He slept in the middle of the bed (_unmarried_, my mind automatically supplied me with). I walked over to the side of his bed and delicately held out the slip of paper, picking up a pen from his bureau. I handed both to him.

"What's this?" he mumbled.

I twirled a finger into my hair. "I would like you to write something." _How easy it is_. "Please write on that paper, 'Halle Bullook. Car crash.'"

**Mello POV**

"Good," I told him. "I'm coming tomorrow."

Without another word, I turned on my heel and stalked outside.

I felt Matt following me. "Mello..." he whispered.

I dug my nails into my palms and made no reply.

He caught up with we and tried to peer into my face. "Mello, please say something."

"Take me to the apartment," I ordered. "Now. The room you stole. Now."

"Okay," he whispered.

Each step felt the same. I no longer paid attention to the scenery. Step after plodding, numb step, I followed him. I occasionally reminded myself to breathe. Not that I would mind if I stopped right then and there.

Oh, how I would like to rest.

I was vaguely aware of Matt holding my hand. I let it become my anchor, the only feeling on my body. Everything else fell away. How nice it would be if the world only consisted of Matt and me.

Or maybe just Matt. I'm not sure I should be here at all.

He opened a door and led me inside. A couch. A kitchen. A bedroom. A TV. My brain labeled them automatically.

Matt shut the door and turned to me. "Mello," he whispered, putting his hand on my shoulder.

"Matt." I choked on a sob in my chest. "Matt, I killed someone." I could feel myself shaking. I couldn't stop the wetness forming at the corners of my eyes. "An old man. Weak. Small. I- I _killed _him."

He hugged me, and I leaned into the warmth. "I know," he said softly.

I held my face with a hand, mainly to stop it from shattering, breaking open to spill my contents to the carpet. "What have I done?" I asked him. "Matty, what have I done?"

He stroked my hair, holding me, and I melted. Because I don't deserve someone like Matt. I deserve to be alone, but he's here, _here_, and _oh, _how grateful I am.

"Is there anything that could make you feel better?" he asked me softly. "Anything at all?"

I wanted to say _you_, but I couldn't. I suddenly remembered back when I was a child, before I came to Wammy's. A beautiful church, sunlight streaming in through the stain-glass windows. The comforting murmur of prayers. A rosary put around my neck by my mother.

I clutched the beads of that rosary now, and whispered, "A Confessional."

"Okay," Matt supplied easily. "Then why don't you confess to me? We can't really go to a church at this time of night... and I doubt they have one here, anyway."

I breathed what would have been a laugh under other circumstances. "It won't work if you're not a priest."

"Then pretend that I am one."

"Matt, you're _Atheist_."

"It can't hurt," he reasoned. "It might make you feel better."

"Fine." I feigned reluctance, but I knelt before him, anyway.

I stared at my clasped hands. What different circumstances these were from back then.

"Go ahead, start," he prompted.

The words seemed foreign to my own lips, but they rolled off my tongue like the melody of some forgotten song. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned." A tiny tendril of the heaviness in my chest floated away at the recitation. "It had been... forever... and these are my sins.

"Murder. I killed a man today," I said. "Envy. Greed. I haven't been kind. Especially to my best friend." I didn't dare look up at Matt. My eyes squeezed tightly shut, and for a moment, I _was_ in that church again, confessing to nothing more than doodling in Sally's Bible and stealing from the chocolate bowl before dinner. "For these and all the sins of my past life, especially for my sins of murder, I am _truly _sorry."

He touched my face. "God forgives you," he said solemnly. And oh, how I wanted to believe him.

"You're supposed to give me and Act of Contrition," I told him.

He pondered for a moment. "Eat seven chocolate bars, and you shall be forgiven."

I stood up and looked hard into his eyes. I knew that this, no matter that I felt slightly lighter, would not help me. I would have to kill again. And I would go to Hell for my sins.

I just hoped that I wouldn't drag Matt down with me.

* * *

**"I climbed the stairway to the sun**

**To fill my eyes with burning gold.**

**But oh the sky was dank and dark**

**And there the air was damp and cold."**

**- "The Stairway," Shel Silverstein  
**

**Please, PLEASE review. I know that the last chapter was slow, but please tell me your thoughts on this one.  
**


	6. Fire and Ice

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or the songs.  
**

**A/N: I keep having Laurie Halse Anderson wannabe moments with Near. XD I am just having way too much fun with that kid...**

**Also, my English teacher is reading this fic, because she also likes fanfiction and anime. She probably has an ffnet account. O.O She hasn't watched Death Note (yet), so there are two otaku parties in the class: The ones rooting for DN, and the ones on team Hetalia. I like Hetalia (boku Latvia), but I'm obviously on team DN. Anywho, hi, Ms. Murphy! Thanks for putting up with me! The conclusion to this story was what I was writing while I was supposed to be researching... XD**

**And so you know, Mello really does keep his gun in his pants. I'm pretty sure that it's canon. Isn't there a scene where he just reaches in and pulls out a gun? I think he's overcompensating...**

* * *

**Near POV**

The next morning, Gevanni burst into my quarters, running over to me with erratic breaths.

I sighed inaudibly and continued methodically lining up black-and-white dominoes in a neat trail. The cool, ceramic texture coated my brain in protective frost, allowing me to breathe in thoughts and breathe out snowflakes. "Hello, friend," I greeted him. The droplets of my words froze, crystallized, and hovered in front of me, glittering in the blue moonlight of his presence.

"You did it, didn't you?!" he shouted. Lowering his voice, he hissed, "You made me kill her her."

The ice crystals condensed. I watched their prism fall, tinkling like glass when it hit the floor and shattered. My finger gravitated to my smooth hair. "I'm not quite sure what you mean. Please articulate."

He remained behind me, and I continued to stack my dominoes. "Rester just reported that Halle died last night in a car crash."

Black widows spun webs over my lips, hatching from the glistening ice and scuttling from my throat, coating my skin in their silken threads. "How unfortunate," I said in a monotone. "I offer my condolences."

"It was when I wrote on that paper, right?" he demanded, voice rising in a crescendo again. "I should've _known_ something was up with that! _Why_, Near, _why _would you kill her?"

The threads turned as sharp as knives. When I moved my mouth, they cut my lips. Liquid silver ran down my skin and evaporated where they hit the atmosphere. They fell in slow motion. I watched in mild interest, vaguely wondering where they would go.

"L, tell me what is going on!"

I turned to him and met his eyes, piercing him with icicle blades. When he was completely silenced, I asked, "Did you tell Rester of that incident?"

He swallowed. "N-No."

"Good."

He took one step backwards, and the blood spilling from my body evolved to saltwater in my cuts. "You can't keep doing this," he trembled out.

Frost crept over me, changing my body from porcelain to rock-white marble. He saw it in my eyes. "Will you betray me now?" I asked him softly, dangerously. "After you said we were friends?"

His eyes widened further, sky flowing out of him and flooding the room. My dominoes flew to quickly protect me from the bright colors. I was secure once more inside my fortress of petroleum and saran-wrap. "Are you scared?" I almost teased.

He was; he was terrified.

Of me.

Fear is for the weak.

"Will you choose me... or them?"

He said nothing, but haltingly made his way over to me. I turned back around, knowing now that I was safe. I resumed lining my toys in their labyrinth pattern.

Gevanni accidentally nudged one with his toe, and the whole cobwebbed map came tumbling down, rippling and clacking until it returned to its birthplace. "Sorry," he mumbled dazedly as he sat with his legs crossed beside me.

"It is all right," I assured him. "I can fix it, anyway." I slowly began to stack them again, unfazed.

"What will he do?" he asked. "You'll be caught, and it will all go to hell."

"I have an IQ of 195," I informed him. "You will be safe as long as you are on my side.

"1-195?" he stammered.

"Yes," I said, laying down the thirteenth domino. "Are you surprised?"

"Well... yeah," he breathed in something at the heels of reverence. "That's... amazing."

"Thank you," I accepted.

"You're..." he began, but faltered. My fingers halted in midair, trembling slightly. I said nothing as my snowflakes waited for his words. "... I don't think that what you're doing is right, even remotely," he finally assured, bowing his head. "But I can trust you. I'll trust you with this."

The frost in my head turned to water, a cool, pleasant, and clear freshness, soothing my mind.

"And I will trust you," I finally returned. I held out a loose fist to him, protruding the fifth finger. "Pinkie promise," I ordered with my eyes.

His face was so open, feelings- humanity- flickering across it like breezes fluttering through a clear, summer sky. He finally held out a warm finger and linked it with my pale one. Velvet met silk, sun met ice, blue met grey. "Pinkie promise."

**Mello POV**

I didn't get much sleep that night. Whenever I closed my eyes, I saw flashes of blood and heard bangs and screams. But Matt never let go of my hand, forced to press the buttons of his handheld game with one. Though I'd never admit it, I appreciated the gesture. In the end, it was the only way I found my admittedly restless half-sleep.

"Hey," he gently woke me in the morning. The rays of lukewarm, orange light streaming like water through the window somehow turned his face to gold, accentuating the bags under his eyes. He'd probably stayed up all night for me again- the second time in a row.

I shoved that guilt-inducing thought down with a few choice swears and shoved myself over to the bathroom.

When I came out, in different leather but still towel-drying my hair, Matt had already made coffee.

Again... what is with this guy? He's like a damn housewife.

A housewife typing madly away at her laptop, oblivious to the rest of the world.

Oh, well. I drank the coffee and grabbed seven bars of chocolate (as we pretended that Matt didn't notice my counting them exactly), stored the gun I'd gotten from Andrews in my pants, and halted at the door.

My face was the most important thing. If my eyes betrayed fear for even a second, I was done for. I closed them and let Near's face fill my mind, something I had previously avoided doing at all costs. _Near_, with his expressionless voice and his toys because he couldn't find any other friends.

Hate began to bubble in my stomach. Good. I let it rise and simmer there, burning like acid in my intestines. It burned my fear away like wildfire, and the only part of me left cold was my eyes. _Like flint, like steel_, I willed, _titanium, invincible_. Hate is the most powerful emotion you can feel.

Matt murmured my name, and I whirled around, anger still itching and racing up my skin.

I couldn't read his eyes behind his goggles, but he was speechless for a moment before telling me, "It's from Near."

I stalked over and crouched beside him. He stretched out his legs so we could both see the computer screen. Sure enough, there was a black N emblazoned there.

I clenched my fists and growled, flames of irritation leaping and smoldering against my ribs.

"Hello, gentlemen," the cold, synthesized voice flowed out like gasoline to my fire. "I've already rigged your laptop to transfer audio. There will be no traces left by this message, either. It was moderately difficult to hack in; nicely done, Matt."

"Matt, you bitch!" I shouted, watching him cringe and invert on himself like the puppy he is. "You told me it was perfect!"

"Don't blame Matt," Near said. "After all, we were both raised in Wammy's."

What right does _he_ have to defend Matt? _I'm_ the only one who can defend Matt, just like _I_ am the only one who can hurt him! That little albino sheep... "What the fuck do you want, Near?" I demanded. "Make it quick."

"How rude," the bastard chastised me like a child. "I thought that joining the mafia would fill your need to overcompensate, but I guess I was wrong."

"Just tell me what you want from me and GO AWAY!" I screeched.

"Oh, I don't want anything _from_ you," IT told me. "I would just like to inform you of certain information that you may find interesting. You are free to utilize it as you please." He paused, waiting for me to rise to his words, but I snapped my mouth firmly shut. "The murder weapon that Kira used to commit his evil actions is in my possession at this moment. It is a notebook of sorts- anyone whose name is written in it... shall die."

My eyes widened for a moment. "Don't fuck with me," I warned him.

"I am not fornicating violently with you, nor do I have any wish to," he assured. "What I tell you is the truth. Know also this: that I am now using it, as well."

"WHAT?!"

"That is all you need to know," he told me. "You will not turn me into the authorities, because I can take you and Matt along with me, and because you will rise to this challenge."

Bitterness flooded my mouth. "I'm not your pawn," I spat at him desperately.

"Of course you're not," he said. "You're my knight."

Matt's screen reverted to its usual background.

How I wished I could shoot Near's creepy, albino face through the screen. It wouldn't even be murder, since I'm pretty sure that your victim has to be _human_ for a charge to be classified as such.

I punched the floor instead, pain racing up my arm.

Because of course I would rise to the challenge. Of course I would play right into his without the competition, my life was completely meaningless.

I will kill more people than Near.

* * *

**'Cause I'm**

**I'm one third passion **

**And I'm two thirds pride, I said I**

**Used to have a life once**

** He said, 'I used to like your smile.'**

**I used to be free-spirited**

**Now I'm just free of sleep,I got a **

**Burning passion in my chest, I got a **

**Burning passion inside me, I've got a**

**Picture of the way I looked**

**When I was three. I came out  
**

**Laughing, screaming, dancing. I came out**

**Laughing, screaming, dancing.**

**All the things I wanted...**

**- "More For Me," Tegan & Sara**

* * *

**Please review. People that were reviewing aren't anymore, and if you have enough time to follow, you have enough time to review, RIGHT?! I mean, I'm starting to get paranoid, here! This story is pretty important to me, and I've been working hard on it, so reviews are like magic to me!**


	7. Dedication

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or anything else aside from the plot.**

* * *

**Mello POV**

Murder... I would have to kill again.

Bile rose in my throat at the thought, and I did my best to quench it. But I still...

The splattering blood, the heaviness of the gun, the feeling of the cold trigger metal against my index finger, the sight of the light leaving that man's eyes...

God, I never wanted to do that again.

But there was no doubt I would have to. This was the path I had chosen, and I couldn't stop now just because I was getting a little squeamish. It shouldn't have to matter to me anymore, that sensation of my heart twisting and inversing in on itself, folding and writhing and clenching, and... oh.

It didn't matter. It didn't, because it would have to not matter. There was no way I could live with having this feeling every time I killed... so I would have to either kill myself or this thing inside me.

I got to the base through the shadows and alleyways, tucking my thoughts away into some dark crevice in my mind. Now was not for thinking; now was for doing. I couldn't afford to have a pity party over myself like some damn PMS-ing girl.

I slunk in, acutely aware of the metal of the gun against my thigh. I arrived at the room near the center of the building where I had first killed. I immediately caught sight of the big, burly, dark-skinned man sitting on the torn-up couch. With his overly-large muscles, his heavy brow, and the chain glinting around his neck, he demanded the attention of everyone there. Likewise, they were obeying, the men who seemed to be his subordinates waiting readily for his orders, and two skimpily-dressed girls rubbing against him like cats in heat.

His very gaze was challenging me. I smirked, accepting the challenge with an obvious grace. I didn't need size to draw attention to myself. I had ice-cold eyes and shadows wrapping tightly around my body. I'd already killed. I'd already resigned to killing more. Whatever he had, I could take and outdo him with.

Knowing that he wouldn't introduce himself first, I picked a low, chocolate voice and said, "My name is Mello." I looked him straight in the eyes, but I could tell that everyone was already noticing me, intrigued. I could practically feel their eyes flying over, their minds whirring.

I gave the room a sweeping, cursory glance, making sure to look like I was already bored with what I saw._ That's right,_ I thought, communicated through my eyes. _Stare at me. Take a nice, long look at the person who is going to surpass you. If you get that far before getting shot, that is._

"Rod Ross," he finally answered. Good, so we were on a first-alias basis. "You're the new kid?"

I shifted my weight to on hip and checked my nails for dirt I knew wasn't there. "I got here yesterday."

He waited. I stood up again and stared him down, hard. I'd used this icy glare in Wammy's, when other kids made fun of me, or when they wouldn't give me what I wanted. I amplified it a hundred-fold, showing the crazy, sadistic ambition and hiding the broken, the fear, and the pain. I showed genius instead of second place, rabid hunger instead of hot chocolate, cruelty instead of the warmth of Matt's smile.

Oh yes, everyone was looking now.

"You found us through Anderson?" he finally asked.

"It was easy," I replied, the corners of my mouth lifting a little as I cocked my head. Anderson would probably be punished for that. I did my best to take pleasure in envisioning his screams, and then losing all care. He didn't matter to me, nor did anyone else, and I couldn't second-guess that for anything. "Now, do you have an assignment for me, or not? I don't have all the time in the world."

He snapped his powerful fingers. "Lakes."

One of the subordinates snapped his head up. "Yes, sir?"

"Have this kid deal your shit."

"Yes, sir." The guy hobbled up to me. I lifted my chin and archly raised a single brow, as if he was nothing but scum beneath my boots. He passed me a few bags- maybe meth, maybe coke, I didn't know and didn't need to- and tucked them into the long shafts of my pants and boots.

"Get them out. Don't take any of the money."

I smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it." Turning on my heel, I swept out the door, leaving nothing but a wisp of my aura behind me.

**Matt POV**

I opened up my computer again, not even bothering to adjust my position to something more comfortable. It was unlikely that Near had left any sort of trace- the kid was freakishly smart. But what Mello didn't know, what I'd never, ever let him know, was that I was smarter.

It took me almost an hour of combing and sifting through my database, but I was finally able to find a fishing line, as I like to call it, that I could trace back to Near. Almost like a trail of bread crumbs. I immediately followed it back to Near's computer, manipulating his screen to show a white background with a plain, unassuming "M" in the center. I didn't need the flashiness of all that gothic crap that Wammy's House seemed to be so fond of. I was fine with plain old Comic Sans.

"Why, hello Matt," his cool, synthesized voice greeted me 'politely.'

"Near," I spoke into my computer's miniscule microphone. "What on Earth are you doing?"

"I believe I told you that already," he chirped mockingly after a short pause.

"Don't go all freaky-calm-smart-robot on me," I told him. "I just took an hour to trace your damn line, and I'm not in a good mood."

"Only an hour?" he mused. "You always had been too smart for your own good."

I breathed deeply. "Why would you even think to bring Mello into this? Why can't you just leave him alone?" I sighed.

"Mello would never let me leave him alone in the first place," he said, and I bristled. "After all, the reason he left Wammy's was to defeat me."

"But... _murder?_ N, you don't even understand how much it hurts him. _He _doesn't know how much it hurts him. I can see it in his eyes, and I've..." I stumbled, at a loss for words. My heart tore, remembering the expression on his face when he looked up at me, so broken, so scared and hurt... If I had my way, he would _never_ look like that.

"He's already made his decision," Near pointed out.

I hung my head. "Then... if you have to... what could I do? If I killed for him, would it count?"

"You're prepared to kill for him," he said in amazement and something sickeningly close to some sort of sadistic glee. "More than that, you could consider yourself nothing but an extension of him?" I rubbed furiously at my eyes behind my goggles. "Why?" he giggled. "Why would you go that far, living your life for another person? Is that even a life at all, or just the life of a puppet, a puppydog?"

"Goddammit, Near!" I choked. "I just- I just want to help him." I managed to regain control on my breathing. "Just tell me how to help him, and I'll fucking do it."

I heard dead air as he hesitated. "No," he finally stated. My heart fell to my feet. "This is between Mello and me. You have no part in it. You're just there to be his subordinate and do his hacking- or didn't you know? He doesn't feel safe without someone to walk all over."

I knew. I knew so well. But Mello _said_, he _told me_ he _needed_ me. I had to believe at least part of that.

I exited Near's computer and smashed the keyboard. The laptop dropped to the floor as I curled my knees into my chest and moved my goggles from my eyes to a dangling position around my neck.

For Mello, I cried.

**Near POV**

From the moment I met Matt, he had always been a very removed and composed person. Most people couldn't remember a Matt before Mello, when he was a singular being with his own thoughts and own mind.

But I remember ed I remembered the day that Mello had been brought in, kicking and screaming and punching anyone who dared to approach him. I watched the fascination and awe bloom behind Matt's goggles at this small tsunami of a boy.

When asked if I wanted a roommate, I had silently shook my head no. So Mello was dumped on Matt, and for the first couple weeks, I saw angry, colorful marks on his skin where the blond had hit him. Then, one day, they suddenly ceased to exist, and he began to trail behind Mello like a loyal dog in worshipful obedience.

The two became attached at the hip, together constantly, and the warmth in Matt's eyes grew and grew until it reached absolute adoration.

Those eyes confused me then, and they confuse me now. Why someone would devote themselves completely to another person was... absolutely unfathomable. Those conditions were not survivable for long, especially in the wake of some like Mello.

I closed the screen of my computer.

I had more people I needed to eliminate, so any unnecessary things to cast out. Rester, for example, was unneeded, to mention risky, to keep alive. As for relatives of the deceased, I suppose I could always send an email back to them to inform them of their loss and how much it pained me to think that they had been lost and that I was sorry and what a wonderful worker they were, but there was really nothing I could do to save them.

Martyrs for a cause. Feed people this clichè, and they fall for it every time, gobbling up words like starving fish in a tank.

I sighed slightly. Humans were such idiots sometimes.

Of course, that made them easier to manipulate.

I found Gevanni in his room, sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at his fists.

I looked at the man's interlaced fingers, but I didn't see anything particularly captivating about them.

I walked to him, and he sighed, not looking at me. I felt as if someone had dropped an ice cube down the back of my white pajama top.

Crouching down in front of him, I gently pried apart his fingers, on at a time. I lifted one digit between two of mine, memorizing his fingerprints for later examination. I set it back down against the other hand, then drawing a soft line from his knuckle to his nail, over and over and folding his fingers over one another. I wondered how far I could bend one back without something breaking, without hearing that satisfying snap...

"Near?" he sighed, finally acknowledging me. As his eyes met mine, I recognized that look. I recognized the way they were quivering and glistening and the puffy redness around them.

Why would he cry?

"Anthony Carter," I whispered. "... Suicide."

He hung his head again. "Anyone else?"

"That will be all for now," I told him. I got up and sat beside him, hugging one knee to my chest as my hair soothed the other. His tears... unnerved me. I think I'd cried maybe once or twice in my life, and even then, I didn't comprehend its function. So I asked him: "Why were you crying?"

He sighed yet again. "Near... I was crying because I was sad," he said.

"... Oh."

"I'm sad, and I don't understand what's happening," he told me. "Why would you kill people?"

One shoulder raised in my defense against his unfathomable tears and frightening emotions. "Why not?" I murmured.

We sat.

**Mello POV**

It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be, frankly. Next time, they should at least give me a challenge.

I stood in a bar. I observed.I saw. When I saw, I made suggestions, and I gave out the drugs and pocketed the money, obviously enough for junkies to spot me and discreetly enough for no one else to.

But it wasn't like they would just hand me an easy assignment to see how I did, and if I got an A, I earned a cookie. I knew that there had to be something else I was meant to do.

As I stalked out of the back door that evening, I had my guard up, my eyes tracing every wall for something threatening. And there, in the corner, I saw a figure, a flicker of movement, following me.

I didn't give them any time, whirling around and whipping out my gun.

I aimed. I fired. The figure hit the ground. It was like math.

I spun around in a wide circle, and sure enough, I caught wind of faint footsteps behind me, coming towards me.

I shot over my shoulder, then whipped around, grabbing the trigger with both hands. Two men. I shot them both in the head, making sure to completely wipe out the first.

An adrenaline rush made me shiver, my eyes growing wider with each millisecond. My mind became crystal-clear, and I instinctively knew where they would be coming from next. One more, to my si-

A weight barreled into me from the left, and I fell, winded beneath the man on top of me. Damn, he was heavy.

In a spur of survival instincts and razor-sharp clarity, I swung myself lower, burying my head in his chest and swinging his head down over me to meet the asphalt. I heard a crack and quickly fumbled with my gun until I was able to shoot him through the forehead. The man went limp and heavy on top of me.

Suffocated, I kicked and clawed him out of the way so I could stand up. Breathing hard an shuddering, I surveyed my carnage.

Five dead. Five plus one equals six. I had now killed six people.

And all I could see were Matt's eyes, pure, green, and so disappointed in me.

* * *

**I'm already asking, I'm down on my knees.  
**

**I'm already begging, begging you please.**

**Can you teach me how to fly?**

**'Cause see, I'm scared to die**

**And I've only just begun to learn to crawl.**

**Can you teach me how to fight?**

**You can keep me up all night.**

**Would you be there on the ground if I should fall?**

**Fall for you.**

**- "Learn to Crawl," Black Lab**

* * *

**A/N: Cake-chan: Well, guys, almost everyone except for mellosgoggledgamer has stopped reviewing. I'm not really sure why. Maybe they're just doing it to be assholes.  
**

**Near: *totally doesn't care* *continues playing Jenga alone***

**Gevanni: Well, I'm sure they must have a good reason.**

**Matt: I-I guess they don't like me anymore. *sniffs* ...Okay...**

**Mello: GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKERS, I'LL POP A CAP IN THEIR ASS!**

**Matt: Mells, calm down... o.O**

**Cake-chan: Well, I guess you should review if you don't want Mello to come to your house and shoot you. :)**


	8. Eyes

**Disclaimer: Again, no. I also apologize if some bits too much resemble the plot of Dlvvanzor's "For You, I Would." If you haven't read that, then you definitely should, and I am by no means imitating it or saying that my stuff is half as good. XD  
**

**A/N: This story has six followers right now. So, in theory, there should be at least six reviews per chapter. I think that a couple of you have just stopped reading- CatatonicVanity and CheshireEffect both stopped reviewing after chapter three, for example- and that does not make a happy Cake-chan. And an unhappy Cake-chan equals unhappy friends/girlfriend, because I will rant to them/her in detail. I already rant a lot, at least once a month, so please review... Oh, I don't know what I'm even getting at any more. I just want some goddamned feedback, all right?**

* * *

**Mello POV  
**

I didn't dare look at their faces, not wanting to revisit them in nightmares. I didn't bother to clean up their bodies; they were the mafia's own men, and I wasn't about to clean up their own shit for them. They needed to know that where Mello walked, no one lived.

I almost believed it myself.

I prowled out of the dark alley, brushing my hands off, storing guns at my hips, and kicking a random body as I went. I smirked for the video cameras I knew were there, and returned to headquarters.

Lakes met me with shifty eyes when I arrived. "So, you're back," he clacked through drug-stained teeth.

I brushed past him. "As if you weren't watching on camera the whole time," I scoffed.

His eyes widened even further as I alighted on a trashy, zebra-print couch, propping my leather-clad legs on the stained coffee table that no one drank coffee on.

I kept my dead smirk plastered on, and shot him with my eyes. He shivered slightly, trying and failing to put on a brave face. Finally, he gave in, stuttering, "you got the money?"

My smirk widened. _That's right, bitch, surrender. _I tossed him the unbound wad of cash, watching him skitter around to catch it like a feeble insect. I could practically crush him with my boot.

"Y-you'll get your next... next assignment from Ross... tomorrow."

"Whatever," I said, though I actually felt a pang of relief in my chest. As soon as I had work to do, I could drive everything else away, out of my mind, until I covered these fresh bodies with new ones until they were only a blur in my distant memory. Besides, I had to rise through the ranks as quickly as possible, and nobody got there by being lazy.

When I got to the place where I'd first seen Ross, he himself, of course, wasn't there. If he ran this hellhole, he wasn't going to run around giving random subordinates assignments (not that I'd be a subordinate for long, of course). Here was a different guy, with weathered, Hispanic skin and a black button-down. Well, at least he had better taste in clothes than Ross did. He sat on the couch with his hands perched on his knees, tense but not scared, unlike Lakes had been. I could see flickers of violence hidden in his dark eyes.

I unveiled the violence in mine.

"I was expecting you, Mello," he told me.

I didn't even need to say a word.

"So, from what Ross tells me, you're pretty smart."

I smirked. If only he knew. My IQ would probably astound these dumb swines.

"So I have a job for you," he continued, "that should test those smarts."

I still said nothing, letting my body language speak for me.

"You'll be hacking into a simple database. You'll do it here, where we know there'll be no funny business, got that?"

"Yessir," I drawled. Shit, shit, shit. 'Simple database?' Oh, hell, no. This was going to be astoundingly complicated.

I'd only taken basic computer studies at Wammy's, and only then because Near was in it and I needed to get a better score than him. (I never did, no matter how hard I tried...)

Matt didn't even need that class. He'd figured it all out on his own, that damn nerd, and now... I needed him.

**Matt POV**

I felt like the gap between when Mello left and came back was an eternity. I buried myself in mindless games, sitting hunched by the electrical outlet so my DS could charge. I brought out Pokèmon Black and White. You know that shit's serious when I need Pokèmon Black and White.

When I finally heard the door open, I didn't even save before looking up.

Mello shut the door softly. Took off his jacket softly. Sat hesitantly, gently on the couch, and slowly, delicately put his head in his hands. I watched as his shoulders sagged, his whole body limp, so tired, so exhausted...

I got up and sat next to him. He wouldn't look at me. "It was five today," he recited.

"Mells... please don't cry," was all I dared to whisper.

"I won't," he sighed, and I could tell he wouldn't. He wasn't trembling and breaking like the night before. Now he was just... bone-tired. Already broken. Resigned.

Normal boundaries didn't even apply in a situation like this- "normal" was already far out of the equation. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and lay my head on his protectively. I could feel him tense, and I wondered if I had done something wrong, but then he put his arms slowly around my waist and burrowed deeper into my chest. His golden hair brushed my neck, and I was acutely aware of his fingers against my hipbones. Needing him to feel okay, I stroked his hair with one hand, caressing him gently. He made no response this time, but I knew that it was important to him. How could someone go through life running on nothing but the fuel of jealousy, hate, and death? He needed- no, he _deserved_ gentleness.

He was so strong. So beautiful.

"Matt... there's a job that I'm going to need you to do," he whispered.

I felt my heart rate spike, knowing that it would be dangerous, but I agreed instantly nonetheless. "Okay, Mells."

"It could be dangerous."

"Okay."

"Matty, I don't want you ruined by them."

"It's all right."

His voice hardened. "No it's NOT, Matt. You don't understand." His arms tightened around my waist. "You've never... you don't know... it _changes_ you, and I need you to be..."

"I won't change," I assured him. "I promise. I'm going to stay exactly the same until you get sick of me."

Mello sighed. "Good."

I just held him there, or bodies tangled, and I wanted to kiss him so badly in that moment, I thought I would burst.

But, just like I hadn't over the past seven years, I didn't. Because it was Mello, and Mello was far too precious to lose.

**Mello POV**

He felt good. Warm, skinny, gentle, sweet. It was like I'd drank a whole mug of hot chocolate in one go. I didn't dare look at his eyes, for fear of him breaking me, shattering my fortresses with that sweetness, his irrational kindness and loyalty.

I sank into this lovely, lovely feeling, just staying, letting him warm me from the inside out, clutching at his waist, his head atop mine. I could feel his ribs through his shirt, the soft skin of his neck dangerously close to my lips. I tried to reign my breathing in.

I couldn't move. It was too dangerous. One centimeter too far, and the world would shatter.

I eventually fell asleep that way, curled into his side, absorbing his cinnamon scent.

**Matt POV**

The next morning, I woke up cold where Mello's head had been and a sharp jab to my ribs. I immediately understood that we would never be talking about last night again. My heart sank to my toes, but I obeyed when he snapped at me to go take a shower.

I was led back to the base with no touches or communication; I simply followed him, accepting that he wasn't going to approach me, and didn't want to be approached.

I kept my face a blank slate as we entered the building. I followed Mello through a few winding halls until he shoved me into a room. I stumbled, and he smacked me. (Kinky...)

"Who's this retard?" I heard a smooth, low voice scorn.

"He's my subordinate," Mello's tense and articulated one replied. "He can do the job for me."

"So you can't do it yourself," the first voice chuckled.

"Didn't I tell you? He's _my_ subordinate. He practically _is_ me. I have other shit on my agenda than hack into your stupid database for you."

So that's why he needed me now.

He shoved me forward again, pulling my hair to force my face up. I caught sight of a dark-skinned, toned man with danger written all over his eyes before I subtly removed myself from Mello's grip. "It's name is Matt," he continued. "He's a useful thing, so don't fuck him up too bad."

General adoration flowed off me in waves towards his direction. I smiled slightly within myself, knowing then that this was all an act to prove his 'violence' to the higher-ups. My Mello didn't really want me to get hurt.

I felt the door close coldly behind him, and I was left alone with this man.

"Get over here, retard," he told me.

I got.

He opened a laptop on the coffee table in front of me and ordered, "We need you to hack into a few computer databases. Here's a list. I expect you can read."

A paper, too, was thrown down, and my eyes widened behind their goggles. They were really playing with fire. These companies were obscure, but heavily armed. I would have to be very careful. If I wasn't perfect, Mello would get hurt.

"Well, start," he barked. "I'll be right here to make sure you don't do any funny business."

My gloved fingers flitted anxiously above the keys. Shakily, I began to do what I did best. My mind kept going cloudy, spiked by zaps of adrenaline.

Half an hour in, on my second database out of the five, the man growled, "Cool your fuckin' jets, man. Your hands are shaking."

"S-Sorry," I whisper/stammered, another electric shock racing like an ice cube down my spine.

"You want a cigarette, or something?"

"I d-don't sm-moke."

"Take. The damn. Cig. I can't have you fucking this up," he threatened.

I shakily took the cigarette he was holding, hoping it wasn't laced with drugs, and caught the lighter he tossed to me after fumbling a bit. I placed the rolled paper between my lips and flicked the lighter, surprised to find that it came naturally. I held the flame to the stick, put it out, and began to breathe in.

I choked. Oh my God, that was awful. I took it out of my mouth, coughing a bit and breathing deeply, only to be forced to stifle more coughs.

He chuckled behind me. "Damn, you really are a retard."

I held the cigarette to my lips and took another drag, longer this time. I had trouble holding it in as it tried to itch its way up, but when I exhaled, the smoke curling in front of me like wisps of a melancholy dream, a deep calm flooded through me. I was returned to my natural state, my mellow-without-Mello state, and let my eyes slip shut for a moment.

I finally, _finally_ put my talents to good use and calmly, quickly, deliberately finished the job as easily as I had finished my Wammy's IQ test.

**Mello POV**

I sat tensely in the apartment alone for a few minutes, the silence filling the air like humidity on a summer day. It was stifling.

I ran out into the street, taking deep breaths of air. I leaned against the rough concrete of the building, gasping.

If only I could find someone to kill...

As much as it sickened me, the thought of ending a life with a sharp, clean bang brought me an unraveled sense of relief.

Oh God, what was wrong with me?

I took more deep, deep breaths and returned inside to devour ten bars of chocolate.

Matt finally returned. I started as he opened the door. "Relax, it's just me," he assured. I just then noticed the way he walked- sort of loping, gangly, slightly odd, but not calling attention.

He pushed his goggles to the top of his head, cinnamon-colored hair falling away from his face. His yes... they really were amazing, this indescribable shade of green...

I wasn't sure what it was, but I suddenly felt a tugging sensation deep within my bones.

"Crap, we need some instant Ramen," he noted, regarding the shelves that were barren but for bars upon bars of my chocolate. "... and more cigarettes," he mumbled.

"So they _did_ change you," I said hollowly. It wasn't like smoking made a huge difference, but... he was Matt. He was _my_ Matt, and the Matt I knew didn't smoke, and it was not the same, and he promised me he would stay exactly, _exactly_ the same.

I gravitated to him and stood beside him, feeling his body heat. "It's not a big deal," Matt excused himself as his ivory cheeks colored pale blush. "I mean... if you don't want me to, then I can..."

And I shouldn't have brought him, I shouldn't have changed him, I should have left him perfect, untouched, should have dealt with this alone...

I roughly grabbed his face and turned it towards me. At least his eyes were the same. Those eyes, Matt's eyes, oh God, I wished I could tell him how sorry I was. I wished I could tell him how much he meant to me, as my best friend, as an amazing person, and just how beautiful, gorgeous and reassuring those eyes were.

I needed him.

I needed Matt.

"Mells...?" he whispered.

I kissed him.

* * *

**He takes me by the hand, drags me to the shore, and says,  
**

**'Maybe you don't love me, but you'll grow to love me even more,' and I**

**Well, I'm not surprised.**

**So watch your head, and then watch the ground**

**It's a silly time to learn to swin when you start to drown.**

**It's a silly time to learn to swim on the way down.**

**- "My Number," Tegan and Sara**

* * *

**Yay, character developement! And yay, slash! Let us fangirls rejoice! I'm not too proud of this chapter in general, but hey, at least you readers are probably gobbling this up like L on PMS. XD  
**

**Let's see how much citrus I can squeeze in the next chapter. ;D**


	9. Need

**Disclaimer: No, both to DN and the simile about glass I used for Mello, which I borrowed from Catherynne Valente's _Palimpsest. _  
**

**A/N: Wow, short chapter. It used to be lemon. Like, hardcore smut. O_O I had to tone it down... XD I'd also like to acknowledge that while it may seem that I'm making Near the "evil" character, I just like toying with him and breaking him. I like dissecting my characters, not leaving them clean and unharmed for other people to develop for me. :)  
**

**Review? *Matt-style puppy eyes/Mello-style seduction/Near-style ftw-ness*  
**

* * *

**Matt POV**

I couldn't even move before I felt something warm and insistent against my lips. It took me a full second to realize that it was Mello's mouth, bearing down on mine.

My brain froze, but my body moved on its own, my lips parting slightly to let him in, my hands raising to hold his jawline delicately.

He tasted like summer rain, chocolate, childhood, desperation, loneliness, and Mello.

My eyes slipped shut as I allowed him to plunder my mouth. My every nerve ending tingled. As he pulled away, he grazed my skin with his teeth and left me cold, eliciting from me a small gasp.

I opened my eyes to see his, steel blue and so confused, staring back into mine. I shivered. "Why-"

He kissed me again. "Shut up," he breathed, pleaded into me. "Shut up, shut up, shut _up_."

So I let him. I needed him.

It was comforting in a nostalgic sort of way, how natural, simple, it felt to slide into an understanding of him; his skin, his arms, his scent and touch.

I felt his hands scrabbling at my chest, fisting the cloth of my shirt needily. He pulled me back in the vague direction of the bed.

Not that I was complaining, but in a way, I felt a tendril of sadness tighten around my heart and strain its tendons. Wasn't I enough already? Did this mean anything to him?

But I accepted Mello, and I would take whatever he could give. Because he meant the world, the _world, _to me.

I felt myself being shoved onto a stiff mattress, heard the bedsprings creak. Mello's kisses became more demanding, faster, hungrier, needier. His cold fingers slipped up my shirt.

I let him do what he wanted, just accepted this, too, my fingers holding his face gently, breathing as best I could as an afterthought.

"I'll try to be gentle," he whispered.

I shook my head slightly. "It's okay. You can hurt me as much as you want."

I barely knew what was happening before my clothes were torn off and two fingers were in my mouth, chocolate-tasting skin that I almost choked soon, he was working above me, stretching me strangely as my body automatically tried to reject that stinging sharpness.

He was all so fast, so rough, and I couldn't savor it- but the pain, the tearing sensation, was exquisite. Fireworks exploded all over my body through the agony it, shuddering and gasping. I heard myself scream for him, nothings I wished I could remember in the morning. I screamed for innocence, the sky, fairytales. I screamed for the color white, perfection, Mello, this wild thing I loved, who was inside of me, part of me, surrounding me and enveloping my body with his.

I came hard, sobbing. I was sweat-drenched and with my eyes in darkness, but it was worth it. He was worth it all.

I passed out curled into his side, tangled in the sheets, stained with the essence of him.

**Mello POV**

It was a blur to me, punctuated by glimpses of Matt's eyes and bursts of pleasure, a rememberance of coming hard, like glass shattering.

The night was fractured perfectly, shards of crystal that would come back to stab me later.

I couldn't sleep. I couldn't think. All I could do was hold Matt's head to my chest, his hair splayed on the pillow like the blood blossoming on the sheets, and stare at the cracked ceiling where I could see shadows shimmying out of the crevices.

I didn't even plan who to kill that night.

**Near POV**

I did research that night, delving into my personal files for people without links to the ones I had already killed. I found ten fairly random people that seemed interesting enough to toy with. Just in case, I decided to kill one relative- a cousin of Halle Bullook- so that the lack of connection would not be obvious. Just for fun, I hacked into the British mafia's base and picked an alcoholic-looking woman in the lower ranks. Mello would appreciate that.

When I brought the list to Gevanni, he sighed at me, his eyes imploring and shattering.

"_Twelve?_" he whispered.

I just looked at him. It wasn't as if this was different from anything I'd had him do in the past.

When he held his head in his hands, I told him not to cry.

He looked up at me in shock. "Why?"

"It disturbs me," I admitted.

He hastily pulled me into him.

I froze. He was warm, his heart beat, and he smelled like cardamom and milk.

He held me, just held me like this, until my shoulders and neck relaxed, and I found myself leaning into him, hands limp.

I stayed this way until the gears in my brain were properly oiled again.

Even when I stepped away, I could feel his warmth on my cold, white skin.

Crying still disturbed me.

* * *

**Pull out all the stops,**

**We are coming home tonight,**

**Our hands and feet and ordinary thrills.  
**

**Here we stand in our wolf-like shadow.**

******Here we stand, hand-in-hand.**

**Red lights can mean Go,**

**I will take us home**

**I will take us home, **

**Cut down the blinds from my window.**

**"I'll Take Us Home," Matt and Kim**


	10. Hollowed

**Disclaimer: The plot and the writing are mine. Nothing else is.**

**A/N: This chapter is actually edited! Yay! XD I'd like to take this space to apologize to Mello. The other characters, too, but mainly Mells. I mean, I'm not really sorry, but I still kind of feel bad... TT-TT**

* * *

**Mello POV**

When morning finally broke, tired and reluctant, I slipped out of bed and held my vest tightly to my chest. I could still see the remnants of the night before: Matt's striped and rumpled shirt, bodily fluids staining the sheets, a weight in my chest like an iron gavel.

I watched as Matt murmured something and curl into the indentation where I had been, seeking warmth and ending up only tangling the sheets ever more suffocatingly around him.

I turned away and covered my mouth with my hand, trying to regain the air in my lungs where bile had taken its place.

I tugged on my minimal clothing, already feeling too exposed, dirty and naked. I didn't want to take a shower- didn't want to see myself.

_I fucked my best friend._ Now, of all times, did my mind process this, the time when I least wanted it to. _I fucked my best friend, and he enjoyed it. Never mind that- _I_ enjoyed it._

_I fucked Matt._

God, now my hands were trembling. I forced them into tight fists, because that was part of it. _God_. That notion of power that I used to have such faith in. The metal of my rosary was hard and unforgiving against my chest.

So after I packed essentials (chocolate, gun), I ran, out the door, down the stairs, into the streets. I ran hard and fast, my muscles burning, my breathing hard and ragged, not stopping or slowing down. In that moment, I wished I could run forever, run straight into the sky, never stopping to eat or sleep until I completely burned out in an explosion of light and fire.

I forced myself to halt only when I got to headquarters, where I stood, hands on my knees, panting loudly. I still couldn't banish the image of Matt's face the past night; flushed, breathtaking, his sounds amazing.

And what was I?

I trudged through the halls, exhausted and ready to burst all at once.

The Hispanic guy was waiting where he had been when I'd seen him for the first time, although now he was completely alone.

"Your boytoy did a good job," he said, and I flinched inwardly. _He's more than that_, I wanted to say, but the thought was absurd after how I had treated him.

"Do you have another assignment for me?" I demanded, shocking myself at how harsh my voice sounded.

He smiled in a way that sent disgusted shivers down my spine. "One," he told me.

_Hell._

I raised an eyebrow at him and took two steps nearer, shoving down how badly I wanted to repel in the opposite direction.

I wasn't even surprised when I found myself pinned on the couch beneath him, my eyes shut tight so as to block the world away, to make it stop, turn it into some hideous nightmare. It was a nightmare, all of it: the way my clothes were cast aside like trash, the feeling of the bastard hard against my back. I wanted so badly for this to end. End it all, right here, in a puddle of my own shameful filth.

I clenched my fists in preparation, and my world filled with pain.

**Matt POV**

When I woke up, the bed was cold.

It was to be expected, I reasoned with myself. This was Mello, after all. Did I really expect him to lie with me as I woke up? Give me a morning kiss? Make me breakfast? Tell me that he loved me?

Yeah, right.

I propped myself up on my elbows, and a wave of pain flooded through my body. I felt sore all over, like I'd just run a marathon, and I was covered in dampness, tangled in the sticky sheets that still smelled of him.

I shakily grabbed a new pair of jeans and my shirt from the night before, and limped to the broken-down shower.

I took deep breaths under the hot jets of water, still trembling, struggling to hold myself up on my own two legs, leaning against the dusty wall for support.

I wanted to cry, but it had been so beautiful. He had just been so lovely and broken, a fallen thing that had somehow landed on me.

I'd given myself over to the undeniable power of Mello, and it left me ragged, sinking to my knees on the shower floor, clutching at my shaking ribs that could not contain all his overwhelming, aching beauty for the world. I sat there, tears falling down on me, until my feelings swirled down the drain with them, leaving me hollowed-out like a Hallowe'en pumpkin.

I somehow managed to get dressed (goggles secured firmly over my eyes) and out the door of our apartment. Outside, I leaned against the wall with my shoulders hunched. The outside world was too big. I liked nice, enclosed spaces where I could be surrounded by technology, not these wall-less, nature-made places with no pattern or order and a surplus of staring eyes.

Only my need for food and cigarettes compelled me to stumble around to a department store and shufflingly picked some up. Instant Ramen, Newports... I winced as I passed the condom isle. As an afterthought, I added in five bars of chocolate, shirking the incredulous glance of the store clerk. I suddenly remembered that Mello said he'd get me a bar of Ghiradelli as an apology for the time he yelled at me, that time that seemed so long ago, but was really only days. Back when I stared at him like he was forbidden, sacred fruit.

I smiled wryly. That was how Mello ever apologized for anything: harsh, reluctant words, and chocolate.

I'd figured out a long time ago that it was the only way he knew how.

**Near POV**

I'd gotten a sewing kit a while ago. I remembered this now, as I watched my electric train run around and around on its hamster wheel.

I retrieved it, took out a sharp, silver needle. Watch how it glints in the fluorescent light, watch how the end dwindles out into infinity, watch how it pierces the pale white skin of the tip of my finger, stained halfway to the hilt when pulled out again.

The red blossomed there, and I was almost surprised it wasn't oil. It spread in stark contrast to the rest of me, and I recalled the tale of Snow White's birth.

I stuck the finger in my mouth. I tasted like copper rain.

I brought myself to Gevanni, extended my index finger upwards so he could see the damage done, the adjacent digits clutching the fabric of my overlong pajama sleeve.

He looked at me sadly before bringing out a Band-Aid from his pocket and wrapping it around the wounded area. Hints of ruby still crept through the fabric.

"I killed the whole list," he reported blankly.

"Good," I said evenly, my swathed finger finding comfort and purchase in my hair. "That makes fourteen." More than Matt and Mello would certainly have by this point. My rival didn't work in methodical ways like that.

He smiled at me tiredly. "I know."

**Matt POV**

I smashed the buttons of my game by default, second nature, until I heard the door open, and I jumped up despite the pricking sensations the action brought me.

I could tell something was wrong right away by the mien Mello carried, staggering into the room, his eyes dead.

_Not his eyes_, was all I could think. _They're my favorite part._

I ran to him, asking quickly, "Mells, what happened? Are you okay? Wh-"

He brushed past me without a word, into the bathroom. I paused before following him, because I'd rather be hit than left alone. "Tell me what's going on, please?" I begged. "I'm sorry, whatever I did, it won't happen again, just-"

He tossed his clothing away and stepped in, turning the water on full blast. I stared at his silhouetted figure, limp and shrouded in pouring dishwater, before bracing myself and pulling the curtain aside gently. "Mello?" I softly inquired. "Are you-?"

That was when I noticed the crimson bead of blood trickling slowly down the back of his leg.

Bile rose in my throat. "Oh," I whispered as I watched its horrific descent down sculpted a calf. "Oh, God."

He dug his nails into his thighs. "Was that how its felt?" he choked. "Was that how it felt when I..."

"No," I told him, reason unknown. "Nothing like that, I-"

"Good," he whispered, and pulled me into the shower with him, getting my clothes sopping wet, though I watched in resignation as they were soon discarded and I was braced against the wall once more. I closed my eyes gently and let him do what he wanted, pounding into me with stunning ferocity, pent-up agony lingering in both our mouths.

As he sunk his teeth silently into my shoulder as he came within me, I swore I could hear the ghost of an "I'm sorry" echo from his velvet lips.

* * *

**Show me how to lie, you're getting better all the time,**

**And if you can't get what you want, well it's all because of me.**

**Another clever word sets off an unsuspecting herd, and as you  
**

**Step back into line, a mob jumps to their feet.**

**So dance, fucker, dance! He never had a chance**

**And no one even knew it was really only you, and now you**

**Lead the way**

**See the light of day**

**Nice work you did**

**You're gonna go far, kid.**

**With a thousand lies, and a great disguise**

**Hit 'em right between the eyes, hit 'em right between the eyes**

**When you walk away, nothing more to say**

**See the lightning in your eyes, see 'em running**

**For their lives.**

**- "You're gonna go far, kid," The Offspring**

* * *

**I've always thought of this song as Mello's themesong. :) We're about halfway through this fic, guys, maybe even a little farther. I'm already feeling a little sad- I've rather enjoyed it.  
**


	11. Revelations

**Disclaimer: I own it all! No, I'm just kidding. That's what I'll say when I get a fictionpress.**

**A/N: Oooh, escalation! XD This chapter just got so out of control somehow. I don't even know anymore. I might re-write it. I feel like it's really bad and doesn't fit... *sighs* Oh, well. You'll all just have to cope.  
**

* * *

**Near POV**

It was time to contact Matt and Mello again. I wasn't worried, but I needed to know the scores to win the game.

I encountered fifteen firewalls on my way in, the last especially well-crafted. That one took me 37 minutes. It was refreshing, in a way; Matt's intelligence was always an entertaining combatant.

Mello answered this time, which I could tell by the anger detectable even through the voice filter and the abrasiveness of his words.

"Fuck off. I don't want to deal with you today."

I twirled my hair experimentally. "That's a little harsh."

"What do you want? I don't have all day."

"I was merely wondering what your score was," I said calmly. "After all, we have to play this game fairly. Shouldn't I be checking in with you regularly?"

He paused. "You first."

I sighed. He was such a child. "I know that you'll just lie," I told him.

Mello snarled behind the screen. "Fine, whatever. Six."

"Fourteen," I recited in a monotone, but internally, I was squirming with glee.

I vaguely heard something breaking and the distant voice of Matt asking what was going on.

"Fucking Near, that's what!" Mello's voice blared through my speakers.

I could practically feel Matt cringe at his discomfort with the ill-placed swear word, but I noticed a few footsteps, and then recognized Matt's tone of voice. "Near?"

I sighed. "Yes."

"What are you-"

"Before you get defensive," I cut him off, already tired of these unfathomable people, "I only wanted to know the score. I wasn't saying anything that would scar him too deeply."

"Well, Mello told the truth," he said tightly, "so you can go now."

Now, _that_ was an interesting statement. Not that Matt wouldn't have said that to me before... but with Mello there, it came as a surprise that he would let the blond see even a fraction of his devotion towards him. Something had changed.

"Oh," I breathed. "That is intriguing."

"What is?" Mello asked warily.

"Something's changed," I reported, "between you two."

They froze, like toddlers caught stealing cookies.

"... What do you mean?" said Mello in a voice that would be menacing to someone in front of him, but, seeing as he couldn't shoot me through the screen (guns were such crude killing devices), I had nothing to fear from him.

"I mean precisely what I said," I extrapolated. "Your relationship has changed. Judging by Matt's freedom of speech and the fact that you're sharing the same microphone without many qualms are only a couple of the signs... Besides, Mello, Matt has been unhealthily infatuated with you since the day you two became room mates. Didn't you notice? I could figure it out. And I was _six_." The level of density that came with being second place was truly astounding. I was almost impressed.

The other end came to a full stop. I allowed for their small , shared brain capacity to process this new intake of information as I patiently adding another finger to my hair, wishing for my robots.

Finally, Mello's gruff voice came in the form of "Fuck you."

"Oh, but you have Matt for that now," I said innocently, smiling to myself. This was the most fun I'd had in _years_. "Good day to you both."

I exited.

**Mello POV**

I stared at the screen for a few moments, my face on fire. _Unhealthily infatuated?_ What the hell was that supposed to mean?

"I will kill that bitch," was my final verdict. "I will kill that bitch if it's the last thing I do."

Matt put his head in his hands.

"How much does he know?!" I continued. "And _how_? I mean... that little... that..." I pulled myself together, coagulating my embarassment into something stronger. What Matt was... I didn't know. But Near was the last person on Earth I wanted to. What we had was mine. _He_ was _mine_, and now that sheep had just walked all over us in his freakishly clean socks without a second thought.

I grabbed my gun and headed out the door, slamming it in Matt's face, filled with fury. I checked my boots for my bullets- still there- and loaded it as I walked, enjoying the satsfying _click_ of the weapon.

When I got to base, I soon found my previous "boss." Forget the contest, that motherfucker _deserved_ to die, from the way he smirked at me trhough his dark hair when I found him. Oh, there were so many people, so many higher-ups... That would do nicely. They came to watch the show.

I smiled crazily at the Hispanic and aimed my gun. He smirk slid right off his face, and the fear in his normally-dangerous eyes filled me with pride. I was happy that the last thing he saw would be my steel-cold eyes, the last thing he heard my whisper of "You sick bastard" while he fumbled with his own gun, the loud _bang_ of my shot that went straight through his eye.

The women surrounding him scurried quickly away, and conversation in the room dissipated as his blood spread on the couch upholstery. I guess he'd thought that I would be too scared to take my revenge for how he'd shamed me. He was wrong.

I blew gently on the barrel of my gun, flicking my tongue out to lick the metallic taste.

"I heard he fucked a guy," I explained as I stared down the spectators from where my head was still cocked.

One guy gawked at me for a little too long. "What?" I turned the gun on him. He blanched, but didn't look away. By now, the entire room was silent. The guy pissed me off, and I still had steam to vent and a goal to meet, so I casually shot him in a random place. He fell to the ground, and I let him writhe there, clutching at the red area and howling something awful.

At one time, might have taken mercy on him; properly ended his life. But my point had been made. I turned on my heel and left, already calculating how many excuses I could find to catch up to Near.

**Matt POV**

_Shit_. Why did Near have to ruin everything? When all I wanted was for Mello to be happy, the kid just had to fuck it all up again! Near should have just taken second place at Wammy's, stepped down from the throne even though he was naturally smarter. It's what I did, after all- circling the incorrect answers on tests, purposefully not studying- so why couldn't he do it, too? Mello worked harder, deserved it so much more...

No. I relaxed my head onto the back of the couch, exhausted. It was my fault. Everything was my fault. I should have helped him study more. I should have gotten in Near's way before he had caused this much trouble. I should have taken better care of Mello, done something, anything, before he had hurt himself this badly...

I dug my cigarettes out my pocket, found a match to light one, and opened the window to let the smoke out. Each breath of nicotine that I took made another tendril of my anxiety slip away.

It felt like only minutes before the door slammed open again, and Mello whirled me around, tossing the cigarette from my mouth and throwing it into the street. For a moment, I seriously thought he was going to kiss me, but as soon as I saw his eyes, I knew that something else was going on. I tried not to be disappointed.

"I know," he panted, heaving as as his nails dug into my shoulders. "I know... something against... Near." He grinned with his eyes still deadened and filled with manic energy.

"Oh, yeah?" I asked, already longing for a new cig.

"Yes!" Mello crowed. "Go on, hack back into his computer!"

I shrugged out of his grip and sat down at my still-open laptop from only about an hour ago. Mello sat directly behind me on the couch so that my head was between his leather-coated knees. I gulped and found Near's line shockingly easy to trace. I guess he really did want to keep a fair score.

"Hello?" the cool, synthesized voice that we knew and hated spoke. "Have you changed the score?"

"Yes," Mello panted. "Five more." Already? Mells... "But that's not the point."

"Oh? Then what is?"

I felt Mello shiver behind me. "You have someone, too," he stated in triumph.

"... Excuse me?"

"How would you have even _sensed_ that a relationship had changed? Your social skills are lower than _L's_ were! You never could have found out unless you had someone, too!" After this little speech, Mello actually started chuckling in victory.

I wondered what our "relationship" was, anyway. Was I, like, a sex toy? Friend?... with... benefits?... Lover?

Oh, yeah, right. That was quality humor right there. Sure, like _Mello_ loved _me_. Uh-huh.

Wait... wait, what? Near had "someone?"

Speaking of Near, he had gone completely silent on the other end.

"It isn't like that," he finally protested, albeit a little quietly.

"Oh, please," was my abiguously-sexual-other-half's eloquent response.

"I have made... a friend." The white-haired wonder seemed hesitant to make even this assesment.

Mello snorted. "Oh, shit. You have no idea what people are like, do you? That's why _I_ should have been first. I bet it's a guy. I bet it's a _grown man_, some sort of pedophile."

Yeah, forget Mello and me, any relationship involving Near had to be a total clusterfuck.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Near's voice clipped. "I am not romantically or sexually involved with anyone."

"Right. That would mean you had to _feel_, and no way could you do that, sociopathic robot that you are. You probably- What the fuck?!"

Near had left.

We sat in silence for a few moments. Then a rthin, warm, pale arm reached over from behind me and shut the screen of my computer. My neck was twisted by rough hands and lips and tongue came crashing down on mine.

I decided that, despite my confusion, despite his violence and roughness with my body that increased every time, this was okay.

**Near POV**

My fingers were quivering, and I had to still my hands by clutching my knee with them.

What Mello said was absolutely absurd. I would never... I couldn't... let myself become susceptible to emotions like those required in a romantic relationship, or even a friendly one. I didn't need anything like that. I only needed pawns and my wits to survive, not some stupid ntion of sexual gratification.

I scoured my laptop's database for information on my clients- namely, Gevanni.

He didn't have parents, either.

Siblings? No. Cousins? No. Aunts or uncles?

... Yes. Checkmate. He'd been raised by one uncle, who was still alive, so it seemed. He had the same color eyes as Gevanni: blue swimming in a sea of grey.

I composed a list of poeple to kill.

Among them was Karl Loud.


	12. The Beginning of the End

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything except for the plot and occasional OC.**

**A/N: I thought that this fic would be longer- about 20 chapters. But it seems that I've been condensing more material into longer chapters. Know that just because there are less chapters, doesn't mean that I'm minimizing the plot- just not putting in material that I deem superfluous. :) After this chapter, there will probably only be two more. Remember, kids: read at your own risk. You will probably cry. You will hate me. :(**

**Also, I want to acknowledge that while I'm not happy with the last chapter (and I DID realize that I forgot the lyrics, which was a dumb error on my part) and my neglect to Mello's POV, I want to get the entire fic down. I'll probably re-write that chapter some time after I finish with the initial story. I may, in fact re-write the whole thing, but THE PLOT WILL NOT CHANGE. I am determined in this, because I am proud of this plot, if not 100 percent of the writing. There will be no sequel or epilogue, but I have many other ideas in store for both oneshots and long fics alike.**

**Enough of my rambling. On with the story!**

* * *

**Near POV**

I presented my list to Gevanni with an unfamiliar and uneasy squirm in my stomach. But there was nothing to be worried about; I was functioning perfectly well, my gears not rusting, my batteries never running out. This was simply to... prove... that while the man was useful, he was only that: a man. He himself had no real importance to me. Mello was wrong, just as he always was. He _was_ wrong, he _was_, because I'd already equipped myself with pages of the Death Note for protection.

I handed the list to him, heart thumping painfully as I kept my expression expertly emotionless. He read through it, his eyes widening.

"That's my family, Near," he whispered.

"Yes."

"But... I never meant to rely on them, meaning to earn my life's work, but... my _family_..."

"It is necessary."

I should have seen his resistance coming. Humans weren't made to be perfect.

"_Why?"_ he begged, his blue eyes boring into mine in a manner that pierced straight through my chest, burning like infected lava.

I stared right back. I _would_ maintain power.

He began to tremble. "I can turn you in, you know," he told me in a quivering voice. His skies started to cloud, water building up at the edge of his eyes.

I continued to look at him. "You won't."

Gevanni started sobbing before me. "I don't want to!" he choked.

"Turn me in, or kill your family?"

"I don't want to do any of this!" he broke down. "Leave me alone!"

"Choose."

He didn't glare at me, as Mello would have, just gazed at me with such intensity that I began shivering, even in my over-long cotton attire.

As if it pained him, as if his decision was killing him, he took his phone from his pocket and flipped it open.

So this was what rage felt like.

I'd never experienced it before.

It built like wildfire in my gut, tearing my insides, blurring my vision, making my nails dig into my palms with astonishing ferocity. This must be the feeling of anger, hate, and hurt that Mello had felt when he paced up and down the halls of the orphanage we once shared. Gevanni had betrayed me. I treated him as something special, and turning me in was how he was going to repay me?

Absolutely unacceptable.

I would not tolerate his disgustingly human emotions any longer.

I took out my page from the Note from where it was hidden, and plucked my pen from behind my ear.

His eyes widened even further as his thumb hovered over the buttons. "No, Near, stop!" he panicked. "No, NO!"

I wrote his real name deliberately, unflinchingly, on the page before me.

He broke.

He dropped his cell phone on the floor as he stared openly at me.

The seconds ticked by, my adrenalin still my fuel burning through my own gaze.

"At least I won't have to kill anymore," he whispered hoarsely, almost inaudible.

I watched him fall and convulse. Stop. Lie numb on the linoleum.

I stood.

I lay down next to him. I stared at the the ceiling as it became less cloudy.

And devised one last plan.

**Mello POV**

Days, it seemed, were muddled together, a blur of snapping chocolate, banging guns, and a blood-stained conscience. When I began to find myself even the slightest bit tired, I practically slapped myself back into attentiveness. I would only rest when I absolutely had to, passing out as soon as I got back to our apartment, collapsing into fitful, restless, and disturbingly vivid dreams.

Matt became the only relief I could find. His cries and the sensations he gave me were moments of glaringly harsh reality puncturing my world of death and numbness. I poured all my pain, all my anxiety, into him, and he took it well. Even if we both knew something like this could never last.

Matt allowed me to breathe, at least, give me some relief, and I took it hungrily, took all that he could give. I felt that without him, I would go insane completely.

I sat one night on the couch, not awake but not asleep, hugging my shoulders and covering my face protectively with my hair.

I felt Matt's weight indent the place next to me.

"Go away," I told him.

"I made you some hot chocolate," he offered.

"Leave me alone."

"C'mon, Mells. You know you need some food or something. You haven't eaten in days-"

"I don't want it!" I said, my voice rising. _I can't deal with you right now, I can't deal with your eyes and how perfect you are, I don't know how to handle the feeling you give me, please just go away so I don't have to..._

"Mello-"

I snarled and snapped up, my hand flying across Matt's face in a burst of frustration.

I heard the slap more than felt my hand come into contact with his skin, but I know that it came away stinging. I breathed hard, watching the way that his head was now flung to the side, strawberry-red locks hanging over his features. He slowly, delicately raised a hand to feel his cheek where I had-

Oh my God. I hit Matt.

"Oh my God," I voiced out loud. "Oh my God, oh my- Matt, I'm so sorry, I..."

Tense guilt flooded, contracted my ribs, almost overflowing into my eyes. "Matty-Matt, I'm so, so sorry, I'm sorry, I don't know what I did, I'm so dumb and I'm sorry, Matty, please..." The words tumbled over themselves as they raced their way out of my mouth, constricting my throat as I turned his face gently to face mine, an angry red mark standing out in harsh relief against his pale skin. Deep green eyes sparkled into mine, bringing prickling tears to the corners of my own. "I can't believe I did that, I'm so sorry, I love you, I love you, please, Matty, I never meant to, how can I make it up to you, tell me how-?"

He grabbed my hand, ceasing my rambling immediately.

Matt penetrated me with soft, sweet words that shot me straight to the core: "Please just let me love you."

* * *

**What have I become?**

**My sweetest friend**

**Everyone I know goes away in the end.**

**And you can have it all**

**My empire of dirt**

**But I will let you down**

**I will make you **

**Hurt.**

**- "Hurt," Johnny Cash**

* * *

**Ooh, cliff-hanger, I know! X3**


	13. Love

**Disclaimer: No, again. But that's okay. **

**A/N: Fluff abounds! :D Not especially long, but extremely necessary!**

**Mello POV**

"Please just let me love you," Matt said.

I froze. What did he mean? What did he want me to do? "I don't understand," I said bluntly.

He traced my lower lip with his finger and hushed me with a feather's kiss. He was so warm that I felt my body relax slightly as his lips moved softly across mine. I noticed for the first time that underneath the obvious flavor of smoke, he tasted sweet. Like cinnamon hot chocolate.

I felt him gently move me towards out bed. I let him, but as soon as my back touched thes heets, I could feel myself tense again.

"Just relax," he whispered as he kissed down my jawline, tiny, tickling kisses that made me shiver. "I won'y hurt you. I promise. I would never hurt you."

I let his remove me clothes, but I couldn't help but squeeze my eyes tightly shut as he removed his own. It reminded me too much of that other time, that pain, that humiliation-

He cupped my cheeks in his now-bare hands, nimble gamer's fingers caressing the bones underneath. I could feel his touch border on worshipping. He was so delicate, so sweet, so tender with my face, like I was some precious, pure thing. A beautiful thing. I knew I wasn't, so how could he do this? How could he love me in this way?

"Look at me," Matt pleaded, but I couldn't, I wouldn't. I wasso afraid, not only of physical pain, but of this boy breaking down my walls built up to stop my qualms and conscience; I was so, so scared of feeling something again.

He spread my legs gently then, and did something to me that I knew I would remeber forever: he kissed the inside of my thigh.

My eyes snapped open, and I gazed at his slightly blushing face. His eyes were gently closed, rust-shaded eyelashes gracing his cheekbones. He was so beautiful.

And the best thing was, I could tell he wasn't doing this for himself. He wasn't trying to seduce me. He didn't have some kind of weird fetish. He didn't want to dominate me, hurt me, or make my body "his" (even though, in that moment, I knew that my sould would irreversibly become so). He was doing it for _me_. He was trying to help me relax so that he wouldn't hurt me. He would stop if I told him to. He loved me. Oh God, Matt _loved_ me, _adored_ me, and even though I couldn't understand why, the tenderness and sweetness in the way that he touched me spoke louder than words ever could.

I knew then that I loved him, too. I loved this quirky, awkward boy that followed me like a red-haired puppy, the only one who was there to support me, the only one there to hold me against the craziness battling me inside my own head.

I pulled him up by his shoulders and pressed my lips firmly to his, drinking Matt's smell and texture, taking in the moment like I was a drowning man and he was my air.

We were, in a way.

I let him. I finally let him into me, and though it hurt, he was so gentle, so kind and loving with me, every touch a caress, every kiss a deep promise. I relaxed with him, as I adored this time and place. Adored him. Loved him. Clutched him to my chest as I sighed when he released within me.

I loved Matt, come what may, and I would never, ever let him go again.

**Near POV**

Everything was in place. Everything was in order.

When I was prepared, I sent my word to Mello and Matt.

I sent my final challenge.

* * *

**Be my friend**

**Hold me **

**Wrap me up**

**Unfold me**

**I am small**

**And needy**

**Warm me up**

**And breathe me.**

**-"Breathe Me," Sia**

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**I know that this is two updates in one day, but hold you in suspense and not overly bombard you, I am holding off the conclusion until tomorrow. I already have that written, though, so it won't take long.**

**All reviewers get chocolate kisses and fluffy fanservice! :D (...kinda)**


	14. Into The Dark

**Disclaimer: I own the plot, and nothing else.**

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**Matt POV**

In the morning, I felt happy and full. Mello got dressed and kissed me on the cheek- melting me- and went to go on a chocolate hunt.

I smiled, watching him for a moment as he frowned when didn't find any, then smiled when he did, tearing into his treat with a grunt of approval. I loved every slight change in expression.

"What's this?" he said around the chocolate, striding to the door to bend over (mmmm) and pick something up. His brow furrowed as he straightened. In his hand was an envelope; clean, white, with no address.

Unless you counted the small, gothic "N" emblazoned in place of a seal.

This couldn't be good.

Mello hurried over to me, his body now tense, ripping open the envelope as he did so. He spread the contents on the table between the both of us.

Inside was one blank page and another containing a simple message:

_I killed him._

Mello froze beside me. My heart stopped. If Near had chosen to kill the one he loved, forcing himself to become inhuman, then... what would that mean for us?

That was such a stupid question.

We both knew the answer.

**Mello POV**

As I read Near's small, neat words over and over to make sure I saw what I thought I saw, and then again, my stomach roiled. The world felt dizzy. I dug my nails into my skin.

_Make it stop, please make it stop..._

I felt the backs of Matt's fingers stroking my face. "Mel..."

_Stopstopstop make it stop now..._

His arms wrapped around me from behind.

_-Stopstopstop-_

His lips in my hair, on me neck, on my lips.

_-My world is spinning and I can't make it stop-_

"It's okay. I love you. It's okay. I promise, it's okay-"

I whirled around and clutched him to me fiercely. I _couldn't_ lose him, not here, not now, not after I'd finally had him.

"It will be okay," he whispered. "This is okay."

_NonononoNO!_

"You know that I'd gladly die for you."

I crushed him even more tightly into me.

But while I desperately wanted not to do this, I knew that I'd never be able _not_ to. The competition was too great, the stakes to high, my ego too strong.

"We both know what you need to do. I don't mind."

"Matt," I choked/sobbed/screamed out. It was all I could manage. "Matt. Matt. Matt."

He rubbed slow circles into my back, and I felt the exquisite pain of heart being shattered and squeezed by giant, bloodied hands.

"Matt, I love you."

"I know."

"I'm sorry, I love you, I'm so, so sorry, Matty...!"

"I know."

I sobbed and clutched at the fabric of his shirt. "I can't... I'll be playing right into his hands, but I can't..."

"I know."

I kissed him.

Matt took off his goggles, and I took one last long look at his beautiful, expressive, cherished eyes. He solemnly lay down the blank piece of torn paper.

"I'll write it myself," he told me quietly. "That way, you won't really kill me. Not really."

"Matt-"

"I know."

"But-"

"I love you, Mello."

And slowly but somehow much too quickly, he picked up a pen and wrote.

I was frozen. I couldn't move. I couldn't hear. I couldn't see. All I could feel was the panic and pain devouring me piece by rotten piece.

He finished.

_NO._

I stared in horror at the words.

Mail Jeevas.

What a strange name.

And now its owner would be gone.

In a flurry of panic, I tore the paper away from him, snatching the pen from his grasp. Before he could grab it away from me, I scribbled down my own name:

Mihael Keehl.

The two names, right beside each other.

"Mello!" he screamed. "Mihael, NO!"

I turned to face him. My tears had stopped flowing by now. I'd never been so sure of something in my life- a life that had now been cut short. "Mail," I told him as his eyes widened in horror. "I don't want to live in any world without you."

He pulled me gently into one last embrace.

"I love you," I told him.

"I love you, too," he avowed.

We kissed for one last time, and held each other as we waited.

As I felt my chest clenching and my life go dim, I wasn't afraid. This was how it should be; at least this way, we'd be together forever. Mello and Matt, Mihael Keehl and Mail Jeevas.

We died with love still warm on our lips, in each other's arms.

**Near POV**

Matt was dead.

Mello was dead.

Gevanni was dead.

I knew that they were gone when they never responded to me.

Everything was gone, and I'd finally pushed my last off-button.

Had they won?

... Had I?

_Yes,_ I had. _Yes,_ because I was patient. I waited. I lived one day longer than them, and only then did I write my name, coldness eating the very last part of my human soul.

"Nate River" lay in neat little letters on the page, and I smiled quietly to myself. When I shuddered and collapsed, my muscles widened into a grin.

_Finally. Finally, I've won._

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**Love of mine, one day you will die**

**But I'll be close behind.**

**I'll follow you into the dark.**

**We're all worn down, the time for sleep is now**

**It's nothing to cry about.**

**'Cause we'll hold each other soon**

**In the blackest of rooms.**

**If heaven and hell decide**

**That they both are satisfied**

**Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs**

**If there's no one beside you **

**When your soul embarks,**

**I'll follow you into the dark.**

**I will follow you into the dark.**

**- "I Will Follow You Into the Dark," Death Cab for Cutie**

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**Let me take a moment to thank all readers and reviewers in general. I enjoyed writing this story. I hope you enjoyed reading it equally well. Thank you for any support you may have given.**

**If any of you would like to read more of my work, I will soon be publishing a BBxA headcanon fic on my page, and hopefully an LxLight AU on my DeviantArt. My name there is AboveAenowyn. I'll also do a few oneshots.**

**Finally, I'll be attending the Anime & Gaming convention of 2013 this April. PM me if you're going as well, and I can tell you how to recognize me.**

**Goodbye.**


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